


Focal Point

by Rivendell101



Series: Like the Kids in Art School Said [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Nude Modeling, Protective Sweet Pea (Riverdale), Slow Build, Soft Sweet Pea (Riverdale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-01-04 22:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18352979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivendell101/pseuds/Rivendell101
Summary: Jubilee stares at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing though no words come out. A dozen emotions flicker in her eyes as she takes in what he’s said, but they pass too quickly for him to register anything but her confusion. Eventually, she crosses her arms, leaning back in the booth, quirking a brow at him. “You want me to pose for you,” she repeats slowly, absolutely bewildered by the request. “Naked.”Sweet Pea wets his lips, mirroring her pose, looking far too calm for the request that just came out of his mouth. His eyes meet hers, throat bobbing with a harsh swallow, and she’s relieved to see a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “Yeah.”College!AU in which Art Major Sweet Pea needs a nude model for an assignment. He decides to ask his best friend.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fun little AU I've had in mind for a while! Be sure to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Natalia and Lydia are OC's created by Southsidewrites on tumblr and AO3!

How the hell did he end up here?

Sweet Pea shifts slightly as he stares at Jubilee over his sketchbook, watching as she yanks her shirt off over her head with ease. The fabric drops to the floor at her feet and his throat bobs with a harsh swallow as her hands drop to the button on her jeans. She wriggles out of them slowly, letting them fall to the floor like her top, leaving her in a lacy, black and white bra with matching panties that makes his mouth go dry.

His eyes flick between her face and torso, lingering on her chest and the smooth expanse of her stomach. Absentmindedly, he wonders how she might taste beneath him, how soft her skin would be under his hands and lips and tongue and—

The pencil nearly slips out of his hand as he rips his eyes away from her bare skin.

Jubilee’s eyes lock with his as she reaches behind herself, fingers finding the clasp of her bra with ease. He tries not to look at her naked chest as she slides the straps down her arms slowly before letting the lacy thing tumble to the floor. “Where do you want me, Sweets?” she asks as her thumbs hook around the sides of her underwear and pull down.

_Fuck me_ , is the only thing that comes to mind.

* * *

Sometimes it still surprises Sweet Pea that he’ll be graduating from college in less than three months, let alone with a degree in art. College was never part of his plan when he was a teenager living back in Riverdale. He figured he’d drop out of high school, bar-tend at the Whyte Wyrm for the rest of his life, maybe take over the Southside Serpents when FP finally retired. Never once did he imagine himself sitting in a too warm room in the basement of a Fine Arts building listening to an eccentric art professor discuss their most recent project.

It still amazes him a little bit how far he’s come from the Southside of Riverdale.

He’s pretty sure he has Jubilee to thank for it.

Sweet Pea never would have applied if it wasn’t for her pushing him, believing that he could do it. And now he’s graduating with a duel major in drawing and painting and has a job working at the Whyte Wyrm back in Riverdale lined up with enough free time for him to continue his art. He’ll be starting his apprenticeship at a local tattoo shop starting in the summer and it still baffles him a little.

He has one last required course for his major and then he’ll be done.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to make of the capstone class at first. The class is different from the others he’s taken for his major. It’s all about introspection. Their childhoods. Life and death. Love. Things Sweet Pea never took the time to really think about. Nothing has been off-limits. They were warned at the beginning of the first class that there would be no boundaries. Topics like sex and addiction and violence are fair game. The only rule for the class has been that it has to be something they want to create. Something coming from a place of passion.

They’re midway through the class now and the assignments are becoming more challenging, each one asking for the class to reveal more about themselves. Every Monday they receive a new assignment to be completed over the course of the week with a group discussion to follow during the next class period. Sweet Pea has fallen into an easy rhythm with it. The class only meets on Mondays and the rest of his classes are sparse. Sweet Pea finished the majority of his classes last semester in the fall and so it’s been slow, easy going. He has a low level ceramics class that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays and a handful of general courses Fangs talked him into taking.

It’s left him with plenty of time to draw this semester, and he’s been taking full advantage of that.

Sweet Pea glances up from his sketchbook as his professor calls for their attention. The class settles quickly, a buzz of excitement hanging over the room as they wait for their next assignment to be introduced. The voices patter out and Sweet Pea leans back in his seat. The pages of his sketchbook ruffle as he closes it, focusing on his professor as she rises from her seat.

Amelia Kandinsky is younger than most of the professors in the art department, fresh from grad school and extremely passionate about art of all forms. She’s cheerful and a little eccentric, but Sweet Pea knows better than to not take her seriously. While kind, she has no tolerance for half-assed work.

“Art,” Professor Kandinsky begins, heels clicking across the floor as she paces in front of the class, “is all about the perception of what we find alluring. Beautiful. Exciting.” She smiles at them and stops in the center of the room, looking at each of them individually. “We as artists seek out what we find to be visually appealing and use it for inspiration.”

“It should come as a surprise to no one that the majority of our most prized works of art on display showcase an appreciation for the human form.” She gestures to the PowerPoint behind her, listing each work as it appears on the screen. “Michelangelo’s  _David_. Botticelli’s  _The Birth of Venus_. The many depictions of Adam and Eve centered around the beauty of the human body.”

Professor Kandinsky pauses, gauging their reactions. The class shuffles a bit, some of the students sharing looks, unsure where the assignment is going. Sweet Pea’s eyes narrow at the growing amusement on their professor’s face.

“This beauty is something that we as artists should be able to capture on paper.” The pencil nearly slips out of his fingers at that. It hits him exactly what this project is going to entail just before she continues with, “I’m sure all of you have spent time in a nude figure drawing class on campus.” It draws an excited murmuring from the class, and for good reason.

There’s something exciting about figure drawing, about putting all of the little details of someone down on paper. There’s an intimacy there that’s not just about the nudity. It’s something that can’t be put into words. Drawing someone like that, it shows a vulnerability not only in the model, but also the artist. What they choose to focus on. What angles they draw from. Figure drawing is a reflection of how someone views the model.

Sweet Pea took his first figure drawing class back in his first year on campus and it was one of his favorite classes, even if he did end up having Archie fucking Andrews as a model, of all people.

Professor Kandinsky waits until they all quiet once again before continuing with the short lecture. “Like everything in this course, this assignment is about you. What part of the human body do you as individuals find to be most alluring.”

It seems like a purely hypothetical question until she leans back against the desk at the front of the room, raising one eyebrow as she waits for a response. The class is silent all of a sudden, some of the students shifting awkwardly in their desks and avoiding eye contact. It’s a highly intimate question, even more so than some of the other topics they’ve discussed.

Sweet Pea is just as shocked as everyone else, but not because of the question itself. Sure, he’s thought about what he’s attracted to in other people. Eye color. Hair color. Body types. He knows what he’s attracted to,  _who_  he’s attracted to. That’s not the part of the question that makes him pause. It’s what Kandinsky doesn’t ask.  _Why_. And that’s something he’s never dwelled on before.

“The stomach.” Sweet Pea’s gaze slides to a girl across the room sitting in a wheelchair. She doesn’t even blink as the class glances at her. “There’s something sexy about someone who’s confident in their skin. Someone who isn’t afraid to show off their torso.” She shrugs and Professor Kandinsky smiles, nodding along with her reasoning.

“Thank you, Anita,” she says before looking at the rest of the class. “Anyone else?”

Slowly, more of the class begins to share, Kandinsky having them go around in a circle. Obvious answers like breasts and asses are of course discussed by the class, legs, hands, shoulders, and even the tongue are mentioned. A few people joke about their responses, but the class is mostly serious, everyone taking the time to really think about the reasons why they find things arousing.

Frowning, he considers the question, taking in everything the rest of the class is saying. There are plenty of things he finds sexy about other people. He’s very clearly an ass man, and he’s a sucker for pretty eyes, but both of those have already been said. And more than that both are fairly basic answers, and he gets the feeling that’s not what Kandinsky is asking for. It’s something deeper than that.

The pencil in his hand taps against the desktop and his phone pings with a text from Jubilee asking how his critique today went. A small grin tugs at his mouth at her message despite the brevity, an automatic response to her.

Sweet Pea’s eyes lock on her picture briefly. It’s a recent one, with Jubilee sitting on his couch last semester during finals, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she worked furiously on her final paper. He snapped the picture when she wasn’t looking and she never noticed, too engrossed in what she was working on.

It’s his favorite picture of her, but he can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s the fierce determination in her eyes or the big, loose sweater that kept slipping down and revealing her shoulder, her hair pulled back in a messy knot, wayward strands tickling at her bare skin. There’s just something in the picture he can’t quite place.

“What about you, Sweet Pea?”

He glances up and finds the rest of the class staring at him a bit owlishly, everyone waiting for his answer, clearly curious.

Despite getting to know most of them through his classes, Sweet Pea has never been close with the rest of the art majors in his field. He’s always preferred his own little weird group of friends over anyone else and most of the majors are still a little bit intimidated by him. It’s something he can’t exactly blame them for, considering he’s six and a half feet tall and rides a motorcycle. Most of the other majors wouldn’t even talk to him until Jubilee saved his ass his first year after he grabbed the wrong canvas for a critique day. Seeing his tiny best friend must has softened him up just enough for the rest of the majors to stop thinking he was constantly seconds away from snapping them in half.

What does he find alluring?

“The neck,” he answers without really thinking about it, the answer coming naturally and surprising him. His eyes narrow as thinks, trying to find a way to explain it. “It’s delicate… sensual without being conventionally sexy.” Sweet Pea’s always been oddly fascinated with necks; with the fragile fluttering of a pulse beneath his lips and hands. “There’s something vulnerable about a person’s neck,” he finishes, glancing up at his professor and ignoring the lingering gazes of his classmates.

A few of his classmates snicker and he can feel eyes on his tattoo. Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, ignoring the lingering looks.

Professor Kandinsky only smiles at him, nodding along to his reasoning. “Good.”

They go through a few more answers before Professor Kandinsky settles on the desk behind her, letting her legs dangle over the edge. “Now, in the final ten minutes I’d like to tell you about your project for next week.” She turns off the PowerPoint, suddenly more serious than before. “As we’ve discussed, nudity in art is something to be celebrated. As such, by class time next Monday, you’ll all be submitting a piece in your medium of choice which showcases a nude model.”

One of the students in the back raises a hand. “Who are we drawing?”

Kandinsky quirks a brow. “Now that is the question. Who are you drawing?” she asks in return. “This class is about you. What you like. Who’s important to you.” She crosses her legs beneath her, leaning back on her hands. “My challenge for you is to find someone in your life who’s form you find to be worth celebrating. A lover, a partner, a friend, co-worker. Find someone who matters to you and draw them. The only restriction is that they must be someone who you find to be, in your own eyes, beautiful.” Her eyes flit between all of them before suddenly landing on Sweet Pea. “Perhaps some of you already have someone in mind.”

She stands from the desk. “This project is not about you sketching a human body you’ve never encountered before. There’s no inspiration in that. This has to be someone who has deeply affected your life. Someone who insights passion inside of you.” She flashes them all a smile. “That is what I wish to see on my desk next Monday. Class dismissed.”

* * *

There’s a little diner a block from campus where some of the Fine Arts Majors like to hang out. It’s quiet on Mondays, most people in class until late or too tired to bother leaving their apartments, and that makes it the perfect place for him to wait around until Jubilee and Fangs are done with their classes for the afternoon.

Sweet Pea flips open his sketchbook, searching for a blank page absentmindedly as he waits for his burger. They aren’t quite as good as the one’s back in Riverdale, but it’s the closest thing to home this far away. He finds a blank page towards the back of the book and wrinkles his nose. It won’t be long before he has to buy a new one again. He’ll have to add that to his list for the next time they all drive to the city for the day.

A pair of hands cover his eyes and he goes rigid. Soft hair tickles his exposed neck and warm lips brush against his cheek. “Guess who?”

He relaxes as she giggles in his ear, peeling both of her hands away from his eyes and holding her loosely by the wrists. Sweet Pea cranes his head back against the booth to look at her. There’s an impish little grin on her lips and he rolls his eyes at her. “Christ, Jubilee,” he murmurs, softening as her smile widens. “I thought you had class today?”

“Nah,” she tells him, shrugging slightly. Jubilee slips into the booth across from him, her hands slipping from his. “We were supposed to, but apparently our professor is having some kind of mental breakdown.”

Sweet Pea quirks a brow at her nonchalant response. “You don’t sound surprised.” He crosses his arms, leaning forward against the table as she drops her bag down beside her. It thunks loudly and he winces, wondering just how much she has crammed in there.

Jubilee shrugs. “He’s teaching Dickens right now,” she informs him, like he’s supposed to know what it means. For as long as they’ve been friends, he’s never quite been able to wrap his head around classic literature. And with the way Jubilee looks physically pained when she has to read it he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. At his blank expression she continues. “Dickens can’t write character. Or plot. Or really any fundamentals of literature. That’s a headache for anyone.”

“I thought you liked Dickens?” he murmurs, frowning back at her. He could swears he’s seen her read some of his stuff before outside of class, though it’s hard to remember with how much she reads sometimes.

She nods, glancing up at him. “I do like Dickens. I  _don’t_  like pretentious white guys who jerk off to Dickens.”

“You mean like your brother?”

“I mean like my brother.”

He chuckles at her response. For as much as Jubilee loves her twin brother, Jughead has always been a bit conceited when it comes to literature. Sweet Pea blames it on the fact that Jughead’s best friend is a total dumbass. Jughead is used to being the smart one.

Sweet Pea’s laughter cuts off abruptly as she pulls a book out of her bag. His eyes widen when he sees the size of it, at least twice as thick as anything else he’s seen her read so far this semester. And more than that it’s some hardcopy that looks like it smells of mold and the tears of students past.

“Holy fuck, Jubilee, you could kill a man with that.”

He blanches as she looks up from the worn copy of  _Bleak House_. There’s a hint of irritation in her expression, which isn’t what he was expecting. “Oh, I’m considering it,” she tells him, a sour note to her words. Jubilee turns back to her book, playing with one of the rings on her fingers absentmindedly.

Narrowing his eyes, Sweet Pea shifts in the booth to better look at her, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes as she flicks open the book and starts searching for a page. “Someone bothering you, Doll?” They’ve been friends long enough for him to know when something’s wrong.

The familiar name makes her sigh and slouch against the booth. Her head lolls back as she sends him a tight, sarcastic smile. “Just the sophomore who tried to explain the suicide of Ophelia in  _Hamlet_  to me as if I didn’t write a twenty page paper about it last semester.”

“I remember that paper,” he muses as she starts to relax back into her seat, her annoyance dissipating. “You shoved your hand through a wall and I had to drive you to the hospital.” Sweet Pea winces slightly at the memory. Jubilee was lucky that she didn’t do anything more than fracture a few bones in her hand. Thankfully they were fully healed by the time winter break was finished.

Honestly, the entire situation scared him more than it did her. While Jubilee was just pissed off about the entire situation, Sweet Pea was more upset than he’d ever admit out loud. He’s never liked seeing her in pain, and hearing her cry out like that took him back to things he’d rather not think about.

For a moment there he couldn’t breathe.

“Do you want me to beat him up?” he asks instead of dwelling on the thoughts. He’s only half-serious with the question, but if someone is bothering her that much he’ll definitely go through with it. He could probably get Fangs to help him too.

Jubilee only laughs and shakes her head. “He’s like five foot seven and skinnier than Jughead.” She peaks up at him, amusement flickering in her dark eyes and drawing him in deeper. “I think he’d piss himself if you so much as looked at him.”

He hums his agreement, leaning back in the booth. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“So how was your class today?” Jubilee asks, changing the subject and abandoning her book, clearly not up for Dickens at the moment. She shoves the book back into her bag, propping her chin up on one hand and tossing her hair over one of her shoulders. Immediately, his gaze dips to the curve of her neck, his eyes lingering on the hollow of her throat. “I know you were worried about your critique.”

Sweet Pea rips his eyes away from her soft skin, clearing his throat. “It was okay,” he tells her, struggling to remember what any of his classmates actually said during the critique. Something about the use of negative space. “It could have been better.”

Her eyes narrow just a tick and his throat bobs with a harsh swallow. “You turned in the bird, right?” He nods and her gaze flicks to his sketchbook sitting on the table in front of him. “Can I?” He slides the book over to her without a word and she sends him a smile. Carefully, she flips through the sketches until she reaches the red bird.

Jubilee spends a long time staring at it, tracing the outline with a delicate finger. The drawing is something special to him: a cardinal in flight, soft lines and wings leaving behind a trail of dust. He must have seen it in a dream somewhere. A little red bird.

“I think you’ll get an A,” Jubilee tells him after a quite moment.

Sweet Pea snorts, rolling his eyes at the surety of the statement. “You say that every week.”

“And I’m always right,” Jubilee jokes, but there’s a hint of seriousness to the playful tone. She’s always been his biggest supporter and he’s not sure what he would ever do without her. Every time he’s been worried about a piece or a particularly scathing critique from one of his classmates, she’s always been right there to remind him that he’s more than he thinks he is.

Jubilee goes back to flipping through his sketchbook as a waiter comes up with his order and an extra cup of water. They’re both quiet as he eats, simply enjoying each others presence. He’s picking at his fries when she peeks up at his through her lashes. “So, any ideas for your next assignment? Need help?”

He almost chokes on his food. It’s not unusual for Jubilee to ask about his assignments or even give him ideas. She’s talked him through more than one assignment for his capstone class already, knowing him better than he knows himself sometimes. But this isn’t an assignment she can talk him through or help with. Unless…

Sweet Pea’s thoughts drift to where they shouldn’t as he considers asking Jubilee to model for him. It’s not such a wild idea, given the assignment. He and Jubilee have been friends for years and she’s one of the most important people in his life. And Sweet Pea isn’t an idiot. He knows Jubilee is gorgeous. Hell, he’s  _always_  known that. She’s tiny but fit, with long legs and big doe eyes and pouty lips that he finds himself staring at more than he’d care to admit. He’s never been blind to her looks or the stares she gets from other guys.

His thought’s take an abrupt turn to her  _helping_  him with the assignment and he almost chokes on his food.

“Not yet,” he tells her, swallowing, his mouth suddenly dry.

* * *

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fangs sputters as he pauses in cleaning the bar top after their shift is done. He blinks at Sweet Pea rapidly, not quite able to wrap his head around the situation at hand. “So your project is to draw a portrait of a nude model,” he begins, summarizing Sweet Pea’s story, “but the model has to be someone you’re close to?”

He shrugs in response, restocking the now clean glasses. “Yeah, basically.”

Sweet Pea had been avoiding talking about his project all afternoon with Jubilee, and by the time Fangs was done with his late afternoon casting call for the drama department’s latest play it was already time for the two of them to head to work at the local bar the two of them had been bar-tending at for the last year.

Fangs nods along like he understands. “And it has to be someone you wanna smash. Okay, solid.”

He nearly chokes at that, sending Fangs a bewildered look though the other man isn’t looking. “That’s  _not_  what I said.” Sometimes he just doesn’t understand how Fangs comes to his conclusions. He’s also pretty sure he doesn’t want to.

“It was implied.” Fangs waves him off, rolling his eyes at the glare Sweet Pea sends him. He’s quiet for a moment before sending Sweet Pea another look, quirking a curious brow. “So,” he starts casually.  _Too_  casually. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

The last glass nearly slips out of Sweet Pea’s hand as his thoughts immediately jump to Jubilee sitting across from him at the diner. His heart swells as he remembers the smile she sent him, the look in her eyes as she flipped through his sketchbook, the curve of her shoulder and the gentle thrum of her pulse, so close he could swear he could hear her heartbeat.

His gut tightens as he pictures her as his model again, all creamy skin and dark, messy hair, but he squashes the image before it can fester.

“Not exactly,” he lies.

Sweet Pea avoids Fangs’ gaze as grabs a rag and starts cleaning the bar.

Fangs stares at Sweet Pea critically for a moment before a stupid smiles spreads across his face. He tosses his rag onto the bar top and leans back, crossing his arms almost smugly. “Oh, Man, if you wanted me to be your model all you had to do was ask!”

“Absolutely not.” Sweet Pea shoots him a withering glare before going back to scrubbing furiously at a stain on the bar. “I already told you I never want to draw your naked ass again.” His nose wrinkles at the thought. For as long as he and Fangs have been friends, Sweet Pea has never once wanted to see the man naked. He could have gone his entire life without seeing Fangs’ cock. But of course Fangs would sign up to model for a nude figure drawing class. And of course it would end up being Sweet Pea’s class.

“It doesn’t have to be my ass this time.” Fangs wiggles his brows, shimmying his hips. “I could give you a better angle.”

Sweet Pea sends him a reproachful look. “You don’t have any good angles.” A teasing grin tugs at his mouth as he swipes his rag from the bar top, whipping it at Fangs and making him yelp.

Fangs presses his hand to his heart in mock offense, gasping at Sweet Pea as the taller man begins wiping down the bar. “Lies and slander!” Sweet Pea chuckles at the outraged look in Fangs’ eyes that’s offset by the smile twitching at his mouth. Fangs whips his own rag at Sweet Pea in retaliation, hitting his shoulder. Sweet Pea swears at the sting, glaring at Fangs as his friend snickers, holding his rag at the ready.

“What’s lies and slander?” Both men pause, heads snapping around. Toni quirks a brow at them as she comes out of the back office, finished with her own task for the night. “And why is Fangs shouting again?” Her eyes flick between them as she settles a hand on her hip, raising a brow and sending them a clear warning look.

As usual, Fangs opts to ignore it. “Sweet Pea needs a friend to model for him naked and says I have no good angles,” he paraphrases, waving her off as he turns back to the bar, ignoring the bewildered look Toni sends him. He gasps, eyes widening as he spins back around “Toni—”

“Hell no!” she cuts him off, instantly knowing what he’s going to say. “I’ve only let three people see me naked before!” Fangs rolls his eyes at her and Toni glares at him. “I’m not adding anyone else to that list, thank you very much. Sorry, Sweet Pea.”

Shrugging, Sweet Pea waves her off. Frankly, he has absolutely no desire to see Toni naked. As comfortable as he is around her, she’s practically his little sister and they don’t need to make things weird. He’s already seen Fangs and Archie fucking Andrews naked because of his figure drawing courses, he doesn’t need to add Toni to that list as well.

Besides, he doesn’t think he could find the right emotions to draw Toni with anyway. She’s one of his best friends and he knows she’s pretty, but something about it just wouldn’t feel right. There’d be no passion to it.

Fangs leans his hip against the side of the bar, crossing his arms. “Well do you have any other suggestions?” he asks Toni sarcastically.

Toni sighs, looking physically pained as she glances between Fangs and Sweet Pea. “What is this assignment, exactly?” she questions them, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. She focuses on Sweet Pea, then, deciding he’s not going to answer, looks to Fangs instead, making him frown.

“Nude portrait,” Fangs explains. “He needs someone he’s close to with a rockin’ bod. They need to have an emotional connection or some shit.”

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes at that and Toni nods along with Fangs’ explanation. “Well, there is someone he’s  _really_  close to,” Toni says, looking pointedly at Sweet Pea. She leans forward, bracing her hands against the bar and smirking as she shares a mischievous look with Fangs.

“I’m not drawing Fangs,” Sweet Pea tells her firmly, shooting the two of them a sour look. “So unless you’re offering me spot number four on your naked list—”

She blanches and cuts him off quickly. “Not gonna happen.”

“Can I be number four?” Fangs jokes.

Toni yanks Fangs’ abandoned rag off the bar and swats at him with it, making him yelp in alarm and scramble out of Toni’s reach short of her vaulting across the bar top. A low, frustrated groan rumbles in Sweet Pea’s throat as he glares at the two of them, tossing his own rag aside to run a hand through his hair. “Can you guys be serious for two seconds?” he snaps, more irritated than he’s trying to sound. “Please? Thank you.”

He’s not sure what it is about the assignment that has him so riled up, but between needing to find a friend that’s willing to strip down for the sake of his grade and the implications of this assignment he’s more on edge than he’d care to admit. And Sweet Pea knows who he wants to ask; he also knows why he can’t.

Both Fangs and Toni sober up at the sharp edge to his voice. They exchange another look and Toni shakes her head. “This is your problem not mine,” she tells Fangs, dropping the rag back onto the bar and raising her hands in surrender. “I’m going to go do something that’s not this. Have fun!”

Toni disappears back the way she came without another word, offering them a wave over her shoulder before slipping back into the office. Sweet Pea takes a deep breath before turning back to Fangs, who raises his brows and grins. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. Sweet Pea has known the other man long enough to know exactly what he’s thinking, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not asking Jubilee,” he says firmly.

Fangs’ grin only widens. “First of all, I never said anything about Jubilee. Second of all, for someone who said he had no one in mind, you sure came to that conclusion pretty quickly.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes narrow dangerously. “I’m  _not_  asking Jubilee to take her clothes off for me,” he repeats. It’s the wrong thing to say, an image of her biting her lip and peering up at him with those big, honey eyes while unbuttoning her jeans immediately coming to mind.

Heat pools in his stomach and he swallows thickly, clenching his jaw.

Fangs smirks like he knows exactly what Sweet Pea is thinking. “Afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep your dick in your pants?” Sweet Pea shoots him a nasty look and Fangs’ expression turns impish.

“She’s one of my best friends,” Sweet Pea reminds him, sending him an irritated look but keeping his temper in check. “She’s not just some random stranger.”

“Look,” Fangs starts, rolling his eyes. “Your professor wants you to draw someone you care about, right? Someone you find beautiful in more than just a physical sense?” Sweet Pea nods reluctantly. “There you go!” He says it like it’s simple and Sweet Pea frowns. Fangs steps closer and swings an arm around Sweet Pea’s neck, yanking him down slightly. “Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Sweet Pea starts to argue but hesitates when he sees the look in Fangs’ eyes. It isn’t often that he gets serious like this, being more of a jokester than most of the other Serpents. It makes Sweet Pea pause before immediately dismissing things, and he squeezes his eyes shut, sighing through his nose. “I’ll think about it,” he promises.

* * *

There’s a single light on in his apartment when he returns home from work near one in the morning. The lamp beside the couch casts shadows along the walls, the room hazy with soft light.

Jubilee is curled up on his couch, looking small with her legs tucked underneath her and dark shadows under her eyes. She’s swallowed up in an old, too big sweater that might have belonged to him years ago. It’s slipping off her shoulder, revealing more of her creamy skin than usual, and she looks soft there in the low light.

Seeing her in his clothes makes something stir in his chest, his heart swelling until it might burst, but he locks it down before it can fester, not wanting to go there tonight.

Sweet Pea rips his eyes away from her bare legs and the curve of her shoulder, searching for anything else in the room.

There’s a neat stack of papers on the coffee table, marked up assignments for the class she TA’s for on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She’d texted him earlier during his shift, asking if she could swing by his apartment to get some work done, saying it was too loud over at her place.

“Hey, Doll,” he mumbles in greeting, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch as he comes up behind her, yawning. He rolls his shoulders, sighing when his joints pop. Jubilee glances up at him, flashing a brief smile as he leans over the back of the couch.

“Hey, Sweets.” Jubilee runs her hand through her hair, shoving the loose strands away from her face as she turns back to the paper she’s grading. Crossing her legs beneath her, Jubilee straightens slightly, wincing as she moves from the position she’s been in for too long.

Sweet Pea reaches for her without really thinking about it, one hand slipping around to the back of her neck. Jubilee stiffens at the unexpected contact, but sighs and sinks into his touch when his fingers start to knead at her skin. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing circles against her skin. He’s a little surprised. Usually Jubilee is gone before he gets back if she ever comes to use his apartment when it’s quiet.

It’s something she’s done ever since they were in high school, after her mom and sister came back from Toledo. Sweet Pea only had his mom growing up after his step-father packed up and left, but she worked odd hours between the flower shop and a gas station in Greendale so it was always quiet at his house. Sweet Pea never liked the silence, the way it seemed to consume him, creeping in from the darkest corners of the room. It unnerved him more than he’d ever admit. Meanwhile, Jubilee’s place was always crowded, the house filled with five people and a big sheepdog and cats. It was noisy and crowded and that suffocated her like the silence did him.

It became a routine. Jubilee always found herself at his place, seeking out the silence but making the room so much louder than it was before.

Jubilee shivers under his touch, eyes slipping shut for a moment when he finds a sweet spot at the nape of her neck. “Hope that’s okay.” She sighs, a little sound that’s almost a whimper escaping her. His fingers falter at the noise and Sweet Pea clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to think about what other sounds she might make if it was his mouth on her instead. “I really need to get this done, but Lydia’s recital is coming up next week and you know how she gets. Besides, Howard wouldn’t stop screaming at me.”

He blinks at the mention of Howard, frowning until he remembers it’s Lydia’s cat.

“You gonna spend the night?” His fingers still against the back of her neck and her head lolls back. Jubilee’s eyes lock with his, dark and pulling him in deep.

“If that’s okay.”

Snorting, he squeezes the back of her neck gently before releasing her, fingers lingering just a little too long. She’s always allowed to stay. “You want the bed?” Jubilee shakes her head, gesturing to the stack of unfinished papers on the coffee table. Sweet Pea exhales through his nose, nodding slowly. “Try to get some sleep, Baby,” he murmurs, leaning down and kissing her forehead without thinking about it.

He doesn’t catch the way Jubilee’s breath hitches as his warm lips press against her temple, or the way her eyes follow him as he heads towards his bed in the corner of the loft.

* * *

“Hey, Stretch,” Natalia Barros greets him as he plops down at the workstation next to hers. Toni’s girlfriend doesn’t bother to look at him, already making quick work of the lump of clay in front of her, smoothing out the bumps and forming a clean edge. The ceramic major frowns down at her half-formed piece, squinting as she leans in closer to the mass of clay murmuring to herself.

Sweet Pea only grunts in reply, unwrapping a fresh lump of clay. He’s never been particularly good at ceramics, his hands too big and rough to properly form the clay, but there’s always been one benefit to taking the course. Rolling up the sleeves of his green flannel, Sweet Pea begins to knead at the clay roughly.

Natalia quirks a brow at his silence, finally glancing over at him. Her eyes narrow at the dark circles beneath his eyes and his tightly clenched jaw. While she might not be particularly close to Sweet Pea, the two have formed an easy friendship, having suffered through four years of art classes and deadlines together. “Rough night?” she asks him, nose wrinkling when his fist squeezes around the clay, making it ooze out around his fingers.

Sweet Pea sighs, shaking his head. He wasn’t able to sleep much last night, rattled by his project and his conversation with Fangs. Jubilee being at his apartment when he got home only complicated things more. It felt right, coming home to find her there, curled up in her favorite spot and grading papers. She was gone by the time he woke up, always an early riser, and something inside him ached when he saw her things gone from the coffee table, as if she hadn’t been there at all.

That’s the kind of passion he thinks he needs for this assignment and it makes his stomach churn to think about. There’s so much history between him and Jubilee. They’ve known each other practically all there lives. She’s seen the best and worst of him and all of the little broken pieces in between.

She means more to him than he can wrap his thoughts around and that terrifies him.

Natalia is openly staring at him, pausing in her work and Sweet Pea realizes he’s been quiet for too long. “You know my capstone class?” he asks her, dropping his own lump of clay back onto his pottery station.

“The one with the prof that wants you to soul search or whatever?” She raises a brow, watching him for a moment longer before turning back to her work. She’s heard plenty about Sweet Pea’s experiences in the class, the two of them occasionally bouncing ideas off one another. There’s an understanding between them because of their broad majors, and Sweet Pea trusts her enough to give him an objective answer about what’s best for the piece.

“Yeah.” He rubs some of the clay between his fingers absentmindedly. “We got a new assignment yesterday.” She nods along slowly and Sweet Pea sighs. “We have to do a nude portrait of someone we’re close to and find attractive in some way,” he explains, shrugging. It doesn’t sound quite as daunting when he says it aloud. And if he were drawing a stranger it wouldn’t. But that’s not the case.

The class is about introspection, revealing parts of themselves they haven’t shared or haven’t discovered yet. It’s about their truths.

Natalia shoots him an almost disturbed look, abandoning her clay completely as her eyes narrow and her face scrunches up. “Are you asking me to model for you?”

“What?” Sweet Pea’s eyes widen and his head snaps around to look at her, an equally disturbed expression on his face. “No, you’re a lesbian,” he blurts out. Natalia is chill, but she’s not exactly his type. And he sure as fuck isn’t  _her_  type.

Quirking a brow, she crosses her arms, angling her body to face him directly. “Oh, so lesbians can’t be models?” The question is light but barbed, and Sweet Pea has been friends with feisty brunettes long enough to recognize a warning tone.

Sweet Pea stiffens. “That’s not what I fucking said, Barros.”

Her head cocks to the side and she blinks at him, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile. “So you do want me to model for you?”

She’s fucking with him and he knows it. Sweet Pea’s had just about enough of tiny brunettes. There are too many of them in his life and they’re all sassy little shits that are going to give him a heart attack one of these days. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m Muslim.”

Sweet Pea groans at her quip, fighting the urge to run a clay stained hand through his hair. The nervous tick only makes him more frustrated. His hands clench against the top of the table, the clay starting to dry on his fingers.

Natalia takes pity on him when she sees the flicker of frustration in his eyes. Sweet Pea is a lot of things, but patient isn’t one of them. “What is it that you’re looking for help with, exactly?” she asks instead of egging him on, situating herself with one leg crossed over the other.

“I need a model,” he tells her bluntly, sending her a serious look. “And normally it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ve done figure drawing before. It’s not the nudity that’s the problem, but this is…” Sweet Pea trails off, unable to find the right words to describe the situation. “It’s different,” he finally settles on. “Personal. And it’s just—”

“Intimate?” she finishes for him, nodding along. “Yeah, that’s how I feel about working with clay. Hands on, you know?” She stares down at her half-finished piece, smoothing out the edge. “It feels more real. Intense.” Natalia glances over at Sweet Pea. “The assignment is to draw someone you care about right? Someone who inspires you?” She doesn’t wait for a response from him. “Coming from another artist, I think you know exactly who you need to ask.”

* * *

His fingers drum against the side of the styrofoam cup in his hand, Sweet Pea absentmindedly tapping out the beat to some song he can’t remember the name of. It’s one that Fangs won’t stop playing whenever he’s at Sweet Pea’s loft and he’s never bothered to ask about it. His leg jiggles slightly as he leans back further against the wall.

Checking the time again on his phone, Sweet Pea sighs when he sees there’s still another five minutes until the class Jubilee TAs for is finished. He’s been done with his ceramics class for nearly a half hour and the wait has been killing him a little. He’s never been particularly patient, and the longer he waits the closer he gets to talking himself out of what he’s about to do.

Sweet Pea’s eyes flick back to the classroom door across the hall. He’s tall enough to see through the small window in the door, at the right height to see Jubilee standing in front of the class of freshmen literature students. A smile tugs at his lips as she speaks animatedly in front of the class, Jubilee talking with her hands the way she always does when she’s excited about something.

The majority of the class isn’t paying attention as she talks, busy packing away their things or unsubtly playing with their phones, and Sweet Pea snorts. How could they possible take their eyes off her when she’s so passionate about what she’s saying?

The lecture wraps up quickly after that. Jubilee dismisses the class and they’re all halfway to the door in the next second. A few of the freshman stare at him as they filter out of the class, wide eyed as they send him nervous looks, intimidated by his height and tattoos, his leather jacket stretched across his shoulders. Sweet Pea stares right back at them, hiding a smirk as they scamper off.

While most of the literature majors know him through Jubilee and Jughead, he’ll always take sick delight in scaring the shit out of the freshmen.

A few others smile or wave at him, recognizing him from the other times he’s waited for Jubilee’s class to end.

Jubilee hangs back in the classroom as most of the students leaves, a few coming up to the front of the room to talk to her. His eyes drag along her form without him really thinking about it, lingering a little too long on the bare stretch of her legs revealed by her skirt. While the class may not have noticed, Sweet Pea can tell she’s exhausted. She may have covered the dark circles under her eyes, but her smile isn’t quite as bright as it usually is.

One of the students says something that makes Jubilee frown. Her brow furrows in confusion before she turns to the door and sees him waiting across the hall. A light flickers in her eyes and a smile immediately pulls at her lips when she sees him. She turns back to the student quickly.

Sweet Pea waits another few minutes as she finishes explaining something to the students. She turns to the professor after they’ve gone, but the older man merely waves her off. Without another word Jubilee scoops her bag off the floor by the wall, slinging it over her shoulder and making her way out of he classroom.

Her eyes lock on his and Sweet Pea straightens against the wall, a lazy smile on his mouth. The heeled ankle boots she’s wearing click lightly against the tile floor, loud in the nearly empty hallway. Again, his gaze dips to her long legs, following the shape of them until her thighs disappear under the hem of her skirt. 

“What are you doing here, Big Guy?” Jubilee asks him teasingly, crossing her arms as she comes to stand in front of him, trying to look intimidating despite the fact she still barely goes up to his shoulders even with the added height of her shoes. “You’re scaring my freshmen.”

Chuckling, he reaches for her, grabbing one of her arms. Jubilee lets him tug her closer, gaze amused even as she has to crane her head back to look at him. His smile widens as he lifts the styrofoam coffee mug, Jubilee’s eyes lighting up when she sees it. “I thought you could use something after last night.” He dangles the cup in front of her, swallowing down a chuckle when she snatches it from his hand.

“My hero,” she says, leaning against him as she takes a sip. A content sigh slips from her and Jubilee lolls her head against his chest, her eyes slipping shut. He hesitates a moment before his hand settles on her back, fingers stroking her hip above her shirt, dragging the silky fabric upward slightly. He relaxes against her slowly as she drinks the coffee. Jubilee’s always been a little clingy when she’s tired. Not that he’s ever minded that. He likes to keep her close after all of the shit they went through in Riverdale.

Sweet Pea ducks his chin as her hair tickles at his skin, the familiar scent of roses surrounding him. Swallowing, Sweet Pea tries to focus on anything but the way her light perfume makes his stomach flip slightly.

They’re quiet for a moment, Jubilee chugging her coffee like any good addicted college student. His nose wrinkles. It’s more creamer than actual coffee and he’s never understand how she can drink it like that. Not that he’s one to talk. Sweet Pea has been drinking his coffee black since his first year on campus when he accidentally took that philosophy course with the professor who may or may not have been doing crack.

“How was class?” Sweet Pea quirks a brow at her, nodding at her professor as he exits the classroom, waving at the two of them.

She shivers when his fingers brush against her bare hip, barely grazing her skin. “Okay.” Jubilee shrugs, taking a step back to look up at him. Sweet Pea’s arm slips away from her a little reluctantly. “We’re discussing  _Hamlet_  and I’m trying not to be a raging bitch.”

Sweet Pea chuckles. Jubilee’s hatred for Hamlet has never been something he’s quite wrapped his head around, but he isn’t the English Major.

“Haven’t you gotten over that yet?” he jokes, egging her on. Jubilee narrows her eyes and his grin widens. She’s argued with plenty of people about Hamlet as a character, including her brother, and Sweet Pea has always loved seeing the passion in her eyes when she gets heated over it.

She levels him with a serious look. “Hamlet is a whiny fuckboy and I’ll never let that go.”

“You know who Hamlet reminds me of?” he asks. Jubilee stiffens, already knowing where things are going, and he grins.

“Sweet Pea,” she starts, a low warning.

“Because he’s an awful lot like—”

“ _Don’t_ —”

“Your brother.”

She sighs and glares up at him, but it’s offset by the flicker of fond amusement in her eyes. “I really want to argue with you but I’m too tired to form a coherent argument.”

Sweet Pea sobers as she runs a tired hand through her hair, yawning. Jubilee takes another sip of the coffee and shifts so she’s leaning against the wall beside him. Her eyes slip shut and her head drops back against the brick. The bags under her eyes look darker now that she’s right next to him and Sweet Pea’s eyes narrow in concern. “Did you get any sleep last night, Doll?”

He brushes a wayward strand of hair away from her face and she leans into his touch.

“An hour?” she tells him, frowning. “Two maybe? I left around six because it was my turn to feed Beatrice and Howard.” He rolls his eyes at the mention of the cats. She and Lydia have opted to take turns feeding the cats on a daily basis otherwise they both get screamed at in the morning.

Sweet Pea swallows, remembering why he needed to talk to her in the first place. “You’re done for the day, right? You hungry?”

* * *

They end up back at the same diner as yesterday, sitting across from each other in one of the back booths. His phones buzzes on the table with another text from Fangs, but Sweet Pea opts to ignore it, refusing to take his friend’s advice after the row of eggplant emojis he sent earlier. At least he’s being supportive, if completely unhelpful. Sweet Pea can only imagine the way Jughead’s head might explode if he found out that Sweet Pea wanted to draw his sister naked.

Sweet Pea’s fingers drum against the tabletop as they wait for their food and Jubilee plays with the straw in her raspberry tea. It’s quiet between them, but not uncomfortable. They’ve been friends for so long that the silence always feels natural. They’ve never had to force a conversation to feel close to each other.

Having her next to him is all he’s ever needed.

Jubilee’s stares at him with dark, knowing eyes. “So why are we really here?” she asks him casually, taking a drink of her tea as Sweet Pea’s eyes snap up to meet hers. He stiffens at the question, inhaling sharply as she cocks her head to the side.

“What are you talking about, Doll?” He clears his throat, trying to force his eyes away from her but he can’t bring himself to look away as she purses her lips.

“You don’t offer to buy me lunch unless you want something.” He starts to argue but winces, realizing he’s been caught. Jubilee giggles, reaching across the table to grab one of his hands, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He relaxes under her hand, linking their fingers together without thinking. Her thumb brushes against his knuckles when he stays quiet. “Sweet Pea, talk to me.”

He sighs, playing with her fingers for a second before releasing her. “We got our new assignments in my art class yesterday.” She frowns, nodding. Of course she already knows that, but this time it’s different. Normally he tells her all about his assignment the day he gets it, wanting to start as soon as possible, and she’s always been willing to listen.

This is the first week he’s been hesitant to talk about it.

She stays silent, waiting for him to continue, and Sweet Pea sighs. “It’s different from the other one’s we’ve had so far.” Sweet Pea shakes his head, deciding to just bite the bullet. “Would you be willing to pose naked for me?” he asks bluntly.

Jubilee stares at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing though no words come out. A dozen emotions flicker in her eyes as she takes in what he’s said, but they pass too quickly for him to register anything but her confusion. Eventually, she crosses her arms, leaning back in the booth, quirking a brow at him. “You want me to pose for you,” she repeats slowly, absolutely bewildered by the request. “ _Naked_.”

It hits him in the chest when she repeats it, but Jubilee is careful not to reveal anything, simply waiting for him to continue. He’d be shocked at her sudden composure if he hadn’t known her since they were kids. He just wishes he knew what was going on in that head of hers because there’s a fifty-fifty chance that she’ll knock him out for asking.

Sweet Pea wets his lips, mirroring her pose, looking far too calm for the request that just came out of his mouth. His eyes meet hers, throat bobbing with a harsh swallow, and she’s relieved to see a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “Yeah.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Jubilee tosses one leg over the other beneath the booth, eyeing him critically as he stares her down. “You know usually you take a girl out to dinner before asking her to take her clothes off,” she remarks casually, looking way too calm at the prospect of getting naked in front of one of her best friends.

“That’s not a no,” he points out, genuinely surprised that she hasn’t turned him down yet. “And I am buying you lunch.” Her lips twitch upwards but then her smile disappears.

Jubilee squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath through her nose.

“Why me?” she asks him, more curious than hesitant.

Sweet Pea shrugs. “Kandinsky said it has to be someone we know.” He swallows and looks her in the eyes. “It has to be someone important to us. It’s part of the assignment.”

She stares at him critically for a moment, mulling it over in her head. Sweet Pea leans back in the booth, not wanting to press it. He’s already asking a lot from her and the last thing he wants is to force her to do something she doesn’t want. The longer she’s quiet the more nervous it makes him, and he’s about to retract his request when she looks him in the eyes and says, “okay.”

“Okay?” he repeats, not quite believing it. Jubilee nods, sending him a small smile than makes his heart ache in his chest. “Are you sure?” Sweet Pea stresses, expression serious. He clenches his jaw. “Because I can still ask Fangs instead if you—”

“Sweet Pea, it’s fine,” she cuts him off, silencing him easily with a look that’s heartbreakingly honest. “I trust you.” Jubilee’s grin widens into something cheeky as she leans back in the booth again. “Besides,” she says, mirth shining in her eyes. “It could be fun.”

It hits him a second later that this means he’s going to be seeing Jubilee naked sometime in the next five days and immediately he wonders if this might be a huge mistake.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to drop a comment and let me know what you think! I really appreciate it!

Movie nights are something they’ve been doing since they started college.

At first it was just the Serpents, but it didn’t stay like that for long. Every Tuesday night Sweet Pea ends up with nearly ten people piled into his flat, squished onto his couch and curled up on the floor with blankets. They used to rotate the apartment they were at, but his has the most open space and eventually they just settled on his place. Sweet Pea doesn’t mind it, not really.

It’s loud and cramped, and sometimes the movie choices are awful, but it’s comfortable. It’s home.

Sweet Pea groans when he sees what movie Jughead is queuing up to watch next. “Really, Jones?” he grumbles from his spot at the opposite end of the couch, glaring at him over Jubilee’s head. “ _Nightmare on Elm Street?_ ” He raises an unamused brow, pursing his lips when Jughead sends him a look of offense.

“This movie is a  _classic_ , Sweet Pea,” Jughead tells him, his eyes narrowing in a way that lets Sweet Pea know he already has several different arguments ready for why the movie isn’t garbage.

Movie snob.

“It’s not actually that great,” Sweet Pea starts, smothering a laugh when Jughead’s eyes widen in horror.

Jubilee sighs and shifts her head against Sweet Pea’s shoulder, tilting her head up to look at him. Sweet Pea’s arm tightens around her and he breaks his stare with Jughead to glance down at her. “Don’t argue with him,” she mumbles, “he’ll just start ranting again.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his fingers squeeze around her upper arm apologetically when she turns back to the TV. “Sorry, Doll,” he murmurs in her ear, keeping his voice low so not to disturb any of their sleeping friends. Lydia and Kevin both passed out halfway through the first movie. And Fangs only looks half-awake where he’s sprawled across the floor, though he keeps shooting curious looks at Sweet Pea and Jubilee, unable to figure out how their conversation went earlier or if Sweet Pea even asked her to model at all.

Jubilee shivers and curls closer against his side. “Must you antagonize him?”

Sweet Pea’s thumb strokes the bare strip of skin on her shoulder where her sweater has slipped down over the course of the night. “He’s funny when he’s angry,” he reasons, hiding a grin against her hair when she snorts and shakes with muffled laughter that draws Jughead’s attention.

“Behave,” Jubilee chastises, slapping at his chest playfully, making his smile widen.

He turns back to the movie, but he’s only half-focused on the story, distracted by Jubilee’s gentle breaths against the side of his neck and her soft curves pressed against his side. Sweet Pea was hoping that the movies would keep him from thinking about their conversation at the diner, but he’s having a hard time  _ _not__  thinking about it when he can smell her perfume and hear every little sound that escapes her as she watches the movie.

He’s still surprised she agreed to it. He’s never been entirely sure what’s going on in her head, but Sweet Pea has known her long enough to know that she doesn’t do anything without a reason, even if it genuinely is just to help him out. Regardless, he’s just glad it didn’t make things awkward between them. Lunch went the way it always does, and afterwards she went with him to pick up snacks for the movies.

Sweet Pea doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Freddy Krueger,” he whispers in her ear partway through the movie, during a quiet scene. His fingers drum against her shoulder absentmindedly and her bent knees are resting against his left thigh.

Jubilee shifts as his lips brush against her skin. “What about him?”

“Think you could beat him in a fight?”

She glances up at him briefly, eyes narrowed in bewilderment. “He has knives for fingers, Sweet Pea,” she reminds him, baffled but amused by his question. It’s a distraction and she must know it. Jubilee has never liked horror movies much, but tolerates them for Jughead. It’s not that they scare her, exactly, but the loud noises leave her irritated and a little jumpy. And they make her headaches worse.

“So what?” Sweet Pea snorts, watching the character on the screen. “He’s skinny. I bet you could take him.”

She turns to whisper in his ear and her lips brush against his cheek. “I bet I could take you,” she says slowly, almost purposeful. Her breath is hot against the side of his face and he sucks in a sharp breath, mind suddenly in the gutter.

There’s something about the way she says it, low and teasing and it makes him all too aware of every inch of her that’s pressed up against him. She doesn’t move away from him, lips still brushing against his cheek. Sweet Pea tilts his head just enough to look down at her.

“You could try, Sweetheart,” he teases, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jubilee shifts her head against his shoulder, dark eyes alight with mirth.

“You’re not that tough.”

His eyes widen a fraction. “Oh yeah?” he challenges her, the arm around her shoulders drifting lower, his fingertips dragging down her arm slowly. “You sure about that?”

He pinches her side at the same time the score crescendos and Jubilee gasps, jerking against him as her right hand latches onto his thigh a few inches above his knee. He almost jumps at her sudden touch, breath catching as her fingers squeeze around his leg. Jubilee’s eyes snap back to the TV as a character starts screaming, but Sweet Pea isn’t able to shift his gaze away from her, staring for a moment too long.

A piece of popcorn hits him in the center of his forehead. Sweet Pea blinks, gaze snapping to floor and a smirking Fangs. His amusement is clear as he glances between Sweet Pea and Jubilee, wiggling his brows obnoxiously. Sweet Pea flips him off, but it only makes him smile wider.

Sweet Pea hopes Fangs chokes on his popcorn.

Jubilee’s hand doesn’t leave his thigh for the rest of the movie, her grip tightening anytime there’s a sudden loud noise. He reasons that she probably doesn’t realize that it’s there, to engrossed in the movie to notice, but Sweet Pea is painfully aware of every twitch of her fingers against him.

* * *

 

“So,” Sweet Pea starts, cutting off Jughead and Joaquin mid-sentence as he plays with the straw in his glass of water, the four of them waiting for their food to arrive. He steadfastly ignores the grin growing on Fangs face, deciding to just rip off the proverbial Band-Aid and get it over with. “I have to do a nude portrait of a friend for my art class,” he tells them casually, hiding a smirk when Jughead nearly chokes on his drink.

Joaquin blinks at him from across the table. “That’s one way to start a conversation,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he leans back against the booth. Already, Joaquin looks exhausted by the turn in conversation.

Sweet Pea only shrugs in response. He wasn’t originally planning on telling the other guys about his situation with Jubilee, but figures telling them now is better than them finding out after the fact when either he or Fangs are drunk off their ass and feel like sharing. Besides, Fangs has clearly been antsy about it all day. He wasn’t able to corner Sweet Pea last night after the movies were done, and Sweet Pea managed to slip into their morning history class just before it began, saving himself from the expected interrogation, but their psychology class afterwards ended up being canceled, leaving the four of them with a free hour.

Jughead pulls a face before narrowing his eyes at Sweet Pea, a little wary. “Sweet Pea, if you’re asking one of us to model for you I’m going to have to say no.” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. He doesn’t actually like Jones enough to ever want to draw his pasty ass anyway.

Fangs leans around Sweet Pea to stare at Jughead, wiggling his brows suggestively. “What happened to ‘no Serpent stands alone?’ ” The quip makes Joaquin snort and shake his head. Meanwhile Jughead sends Fangs a look of utter annoyance.

“I draw my line at getting naked around any of you,” Jughead informs them, looking almost queasy at the thought. He’s never been one for public nudity, especially not after everything that happened their second year on campus.

“Afraid he’d draw your dick to size?” Fangs teases, resting one elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand. “You could ask him to scale it up.” Sweet Pea doesn’t bother to hide the snort that escapes him, his lips curving up at the edges at their bickering.

Fangs’ teasing is always more amusing when it’s not directed at him.

Jughead shoots Sweet Pea a nasty look before his gaze jumps back to a snickering Fangs. “Fuck you, Fangs! There’s nothing wrong with the size of my dick!”

The two of them dissolve into an argument over Jughead’s cock and Sweet Pea watches them from his spot closest to the window, thoroughly amused by the turn in conversation.

Joaquin groans from across the booth and shoots Sweet Pea an annoyed look. “Look what you did, Pea,” he chastises, rolling his eyes at their other friends. It’s not until their waitress returns with their food that Jughead and Fangs stop bickering. It doesn’t take long for Jughead to become fixated on his burger and forget all about Fangs’ ribbing and Sweet Pea’s unprompted declaration.

While the other two are busy with their food, Joaquin turns back to Sweet Pea, raising a curious brow. “So is there a reason you’re bringing this up?” he asks, resting his elbows against the table between them. “The modeling thing, not Jughead’s penis. Because, no offense man, but I wouldn’t let you draw me naked if you  _ _paid__  me.”

Sweet Pea snorts and rolls his eyes. He has no idea why everyone just assumes he’s asking them to get naked for him. Is that the kind of guy he seems like? “I already have a model,” he informs Joaquin. “I asked someone yesterday.”

“Okay?” Joaquin frowns at him, like he’s not sure why Sweet Pea is bringing this up to begin with.

“It’s Jubilee,” he continues casually.

Jughead’s burger falls out of his hands.

Joaquin blinks at him, eyes widening just a fraction, but his expression is otherwise unreadable. He doesn’t say a word as Jughead wheezes, choking on his lunch. Sweet Pea opts to ignore this, as do the others.

“Seriously?” Fangs gasps, positively giddy as he swivels in his seat to look at Sweet Pea. “You seriously asked Jubilee?”

He frowns at Fangs’ surprise. “You’re the one that told me to ask her,” Sweet Pea reminds his friend, baffled by his excitement, though he probably shouldn’t be. He’s known Fangs practically his entire life and Fangs has always been way too dramatic for his own good. That’s probably why he’s currently majoring in theater though.

Fangs gives an over-exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d have the balls to actually do it.”

“Dude, if you’re just being a bitch because I don’t want to draw you naked—”

“I’d be a great model and you know it!” Fangs snaps, glaring at Sweet Pea over his sandwich.

Sweet Pea glares right back at his friend, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but Jughead cuts him off before he can say anything. “You asked  _my sister_  to model for you naked,” Jughead repeats slowly, blue eyes wider than Sweet Pea has ever seen them before. “You asked my sister to model for you  _naked_?” His expression quickly melts into one of disgust.

Sweet Pea isn’t entirely sure if it’s a question or not. “Yes?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Sweet Pea, I’m gonna kill you.” He pulls out his phone, grumbling something to himself that the rest of them don’t catch.

“What are you doing?” Sweet Pea questions, quirking a brow at Jughead’s furious typing.

“Texting my dad.”

“FP can text?”

Sweet Pea sighs, feeling a headache coming on. “He’s not that fucking old, Fangs. And knock that shit off, Jones.” He reaches across the table and slaps the cell phone out of Jughead’s hand, sending it clattering against the table.

Jughead huffs as he slips the phone back into his pocket. They eventually quiet down as the surprise wears off and Sweet Pea is suddenly aware of how quiet Joaquin is being. He’s never been that much of a talker compared to the rest of them, but he’s not the definition of the silent type either. Sweet Pea meets Joaquin’s eyes for just a moment before turning to his food.

They eat in silence for several minutes.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Joaquin asks him suddenly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes from across the booth. He stares at Sweet Pea seriously, an odd look on his face. “You know, Jubilee modeling for you?  _Naked_.” He stresses the last word and Sweet Pea rolls his eyes.

Sweet Pea shrugs, chewing his burger slowly as he glances at Joaquin. “Why wouldn’t it be? Jubilee doesn’t seem to have an issue with it.” She’d definitely let him know if there was a problem, never the type to let something like that slide. And it didn’t exactly take much convincing to get her to agree. “Besides, Jubilee is just a friend.”

“A friend who you’ve slept with,” Fangs immediately counters, rolling his eyes.

Sweet Pea stiffens.

Joaquin’s eyes widen just a fraction, his mouth dropping open. “What?”

“You slept with my sister?” Jughead questions just a little too loudly, gaining them a few looks from other patrons nearby. For the third time since the conversation started, Jughead looks queasy.

“Bed!” Sweet Pea corrects them, shooting Fangs a nasty glare that only makes him smirk in self-satisfaction. “We shared a bed!” he says, keeping his voice low to avoid any additional unwanted attention. “That’s it. And it only happened one time.”

“When the fuck—” Joaquin cuts himself off, glancing at one of the nearby tables before leaning across the table closer to Sweet Pea. “When the fuck did you share a bed?” he hisses, bewilderment flashing in his eyes.

Sweet Pea groans, dropping his head back against the booth and squeezing his eyes shut. He drags a hand down the side of his face, avoiding the varying looks from his friends. “Last semester,” he mumbles, “when Mantle came to see Lydia.” Sweet Pea drops his hand, looking between them slowly. “Their apartment was crowded and Jubilee asked to stay at my place. I would have taken the couch, but someone was slumming it there,” he explains, sending Fangs a look that the other man waves off. “Nothing happened.”

Fangs raises an unimpressed brow and snorts. “You popped a boner,” he reminds Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea takes a deep breath through his nose, fighting the urge to throttle his friend. “Fangs, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Okay, first of all,” Joaquin says, glancing between the two of them and settling on Fangs, “I don’t wanna know why  _you_  know this.” Fangs opens his mouth to speak, but Joaquin continues before he can somehow make things worse. “Second of all,” he turns to Sweet Pea, “you got hard from sharing a bed? And you think that won’t happen when she takes off her clothes for you?”

Jughead pulls another face at the mention of his sister being naked and Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, wishing they would just drop it. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid this morning.

“Well, as long as her ass isn’t pressed against my crotch I think I’ll be fine,” he tells them sarcastically.

Joaquin frowns at him and raises a brow, apparently surprised by the new information. He glances at Fangs for clarification.

“They were spooning,” he explains.

Nodding, Joaquin slowly turns back to Sweet Pea, considering him for several long seconds. “Man you are in so much trouble,” Joaquin finally tells him, shaking his head almost sadly.

“I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this.” Sweet Pea crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “There’s nothing sexy about figure drawing.” And really, there’s not. Figure drawing can be awkward at first, and it’s definitely intimate, but he definitely wouldn’t call it arousing when he’s trying for the sixth time to shade a face and the model is obviously sweaty and uncomfortable under the studio lights.

“So you’re not going to pop a boner after Jubilee takes her clothes off for you?” Joaquin asks him.

“There’s nothing sexy about figure drawing,” Sweet Pea repeats firmly, rolling his eyes at Fangs remark and trying to ignore the suddenly very prominent thought of Jubilee undressing for him. He takes a long drink of water.

Fangs shoots him an impish look. “There’s something sexy about Jubilee though.”

Jughead looks physically ill at that and Sweet Pea’s fingers curl into a fist as his jaw clenches. Fangs doesn’t bat an eye at the warning look Sweet Pea sends him. Joaquin just shakes his head and murmurs something about them being dumbasses. “Can we just drop it, please?” Sweet Pea grumbles, running a hand down the side of his face and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It’s quiet for a second.

“But what if you have to stop halfway through to rub one out?” Fangs asks.

Exasperated, Sweet Pea stops their waitress as she walks by, suddenly very glad that he has no qualms with day-drinking. “Can I get a rum and coke, please?”

* * *

 

The week passes by far too quickly and before Sweet Pea realizes it it’s Friday.

Normally, he’d have at least made an attempt to start his project by now, but he’s come to realize just how complicated it can be when there’s two schedules that need to align. He’s used to working when inspiration hits him, waiting for that right moment to start, even if it means pushing the limits of a deadline. He’s never been afraid to rush his work. The pressure helps sometimes—keeps him focused.

But this isn’t the kind of project he can rush. Figure drawing takes time. Hours depending on the subject and posing. People can only stay still for so long at a time and it isn’t unheard of for people to take more than one session on a single piece, especially for a higher level class like this. He has three days left to finish and he’s not quite sure if the nerves prickling across his skin are because of the looming deadline or something else.

It’s not that he’s been avoiding the project, exactly—at least, not on  _purpose_ —but between his and Jubilee’s work schedules they’ve both been busy. He hasn’t seen much of her since Tuesday night, after he dropped her off back at her place. A few times in the hallways on campus and that was it.

It’s close to that time in the semester where they’re all cramming to finish things and going out of their minds with papers and projects. Jubilee and Jughead have had it the worst, their literature classes kicking their asses as they cram out one paper after the next. It’s not uncommon for the Joneses to disappear for a few days every semester, locking themselves in their rooms and threatening anyone who dares to get close to them.

It happens every semester, but he’s never gotten used to her  _ _not__  being there.

Something cold always creeps into his apartment when she’s gone for more than a few days, the silence coming back when she isn’t there to chase it away. It makes him more irritated than he’d ever admit, but his friends can recognize his moods after so many years of knowing him.

None of them have brought up the nude modeling thing since Wednesday, and Sweet Pea is thankful for that. He wouldn’t tell them, but their teasing got to him more than he was expecting. As much he brushed them off and rolled his eyes they were right about one thing: it  _is_  different with Jubilee.

Sweet Pea isn’t a stranger to seeing people naked. He’s had a few girlfriends over the years and was never shy about hooking up with people at parties during his first years on campus. He spent an entire semester taking a figure drawing class where he spent six hours a week drawing various models. The nudity isn’t what makes him nervous about this project. It’s Jubilee.

Not for the first time he considers what this might mean for them. There’s always been a delicate balance between them. Sweet Pea’s always been careful not to let things get too far, even when he catches himself thinking about her more than he should.

He knows why he asked Jubilee to be his model; what he doesn’t know is why she said yes.

And now it’s Friday and the deadline is creeping up on him faster than before. It makes him antsy, irritated, and he barely sits through his morning history and psychology classes without picking a fight with the frat guys in the back of the class who won’t stop talking. Sweet Pea doesn’t even like psychology, but at least it’s something to distract him from thinking about Jubilee being naked.

There’s nothing quite like psychology to kill a boner before it can start.

By the time their professor dismisses them, Sweet Pea is ready to go home and spend his Friday night on the couch watching bad Netflix movies and drinking that bottle of whisky he’s been saving for the right occasion.

He figures frustrated and a little horny is a perfect excuse.

He blames Fangs for putting the idea of asking Jubilee in his head in the first place. Sure, he’d pictured it a few times, imagining her dark hair tickling her soft skin and the way her eyes might catch the light, turning to gold in the late afternoon. It isn’t hard to picture her like that. Jubilee has been in his thoughts for longer than he’d like to admit, there in the back of his mind and creeping up on him when he isn’t careful.

This project has only made it worse.

Sweet Pea slings his bag over his shoulder, intent on bolting from the classroom before any of his friends can stop him, but Fangs catches him before he can get far, tossing an arm around Sweet Pea’s neck and yanking him down slightly. Grunting at the strain on his neck, Sweet Pea glances at Fangs, who grins back cheekily as they leave the classroom.

“So, any plans for tonight?” Fangs asks him casually as Sweet Pea pulls himself out of Fangs’ hold and sends him an irritated look.

He already doesn’t like where this is going. The last time that Fangs asked if he had plans, Sweet Pea ended up in Cancun during spring break and was nearly arrested. He’s pretty sure he and Fangs are both wanted criminals in Mexico now. “Home,” he tells Fangs firmly, rolling his shoulders and straightening to his full height, “to drink and ignore my responsibilities as an adult.”

Fangs clucks his tongue, sending him a critical look. “No you’re not,” he decides, making Sweet Pea roll his eyes. Fangs knocks his shoulder against Sweet Pea’s, grinning and wiggling his brows. “ _We_ are going to a party tonight.”

“Fuck that,” is Sweet Pea’s immediate reply. He stopped letting Fangs talk him into going to parties their second year on campus after deciding the nasty hangovers and shitty hookups weren’t worth it. He’s only been to a few since then, and he’s regretted it almost immediately every time.

“Oh, come on, Pea.” Fangs heaves a dramatic sigh, clearly put out by the quick dismissal. “SAE is throwing a rager tonight and I need you as my wingman. Kevin and Joaquin are going on a date tonight and you know Jughead can’t wingman for shit.” Sweet Pea will give him that. Jughead is just about the worst wingman ever and is more likely to start a brawl than anything else.

He quirks a brow at Fangs. “Sigma? Really?” he asks, shaking his head in disappointment. “They’re all assholes.” Sweet Pea went to one Sigma party a few semesters back and all he got out of it was a morning spent in the bathroom afterwards. That’s not something he needs a repeat of anytime soon.

“Yeah, but they throw excellent parties and hot people show up,” Fangs reminds him, waving off his concerns.

“Why can’t you just use Tinder like everyone else?” Sweet Pea asks, annoyance dripping from his voice. It would be so much easier for the rest of them if Fangs would just take up online dating instead of attempting to hookup with anyone with a pulse and pretty eyes.

Fangs shoots him a pleading look and Sweet Pea has to look away, steadfastly avoiding his puppy-dog eyes. “Come on man,” Fangs tries again, “you promised you’d help me out after last time!” Sweet Pea snorts, fairly certain he didn’t promise Fangs shit. “Besides it beats drinking whiskey and jerking yourself off.”

“Isn’t that what you usually do on a Friday night, Fogarty?” a familiar voice teases from behind them. Sweet Pea’s head snaps around, his eyes finding a dark, amber gaze already looking at him. His whole body relaxes when he sees Jubilee standing behind them, a grin spreading across her face. She glances between them, looking comfortable in a pair of dark jeans and a big sweater.

“Jubilee!” Fangs greets her excitedly, crossing the small space between them and tossing his arms around her in a bear-hug, making her giggle. A fond smile slips onto Sweet Pea’s face as he looks at her. “Where’ve you been, girl?” Fangs asks as he releases her. “You disappeared on us there!”

“Clarkson assigned a paper due today and you know how he is,” she explains, waving off Fangs concern. She glances over at Sweet Pea, her lips curling into a smile. “I just ran down here to drop off a book with Jughead, figured I’d see what you two were up to.”

He’s a little surprised to see her this far away from the cluster of literature classes on the third floor until he remembers that Clarkson doesn’t have classes on days papers are due, a small mercy from the asshole professor.

Sweet Pea steps up to them and places a hand on her back, guiding her closer to him as students mill around them. A few of the frat guys glance at her as they walk by and Sweet Pea glares at them over her head, letting his hand linger on her hip until they turn away.

“I hate Clarkson,” Fangs mumbles off-handedly, wrinkling his nose at the mention of the professor.

Sweet Pea snorts, trying to ignore the way Jubilee leans into his side. “Why?” Sweet Pea asks, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Because he failed you?”

“Yes, because he failed me!” Fangs snaps at him, a sour look on his face. Despite it being two years since Fangs had a class with the professor, he’s never been one to let a grudge go so easily. “That paper was solid and you both know it!”

Jubilee shakes her head. “You wrote it two hours before it was due,” she reminds Fangs, crossing her arms when he looks at her and pouts. “What else were you expecting? You knew Clarkson was a hardass.”

Fangs just waves off her comment, a retort ready on his mouth before he pauses seeming to realize something very important. He looks down at Jubilee before his gaze flicks up to Sweet Pea instead. “Wait, does that mean you’re free tonight?” he asks Jubilee, suddenly excited.

Sweet Pea swears under his breath and groans, already knowing where this is heading.

Jubilee glances up at him, raising a brow. “I don’t have to speed write a paper,” she tells Fangs slowly, “so no, I don’t have anything going on. Why?”

“How would you feel about going to a party tonight?” Fangs asks her, ignoring the glare Sweet Pea sends him. It’s a dirty trick and Fangs knows it too. Sweet Pea doesn’t let any of the girls go to parties without him there to watch out for them, knowing how college parties can get.

Jubilee considers it for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Fine,” she decides, making Sweet Pea groan, “but I’m not playing beer pong.”

“Deal!” Fangs tells her, clapping Sweet Pea on the shoulder before backing away with a grin, having to run to the theater department. “I’ll see you guys tonight!” he tells them, then points to Jubilee. “Wear something sexy!”

“Don’t I always?” Jubilee calls back to him.

Sweet Pea sighs through his nose, fairly certain they’re trying to kill him.

* * *

 

Sweet Pea picks at a loose thread in Jubilee’s couch as he waits for her to finish getting ready, trying not to disturb the cat sleeping on his chest even as he grows restless. It’s been almost a half-hour since he showed up at the girls’ apartment, planning to walk with them the entire way to the party even though his apartment is closer.

He should have known better than to think they’d be ready by the time he got there.

“You know, you don’t actually have to dress up for a frat party, right?” Sweet Pea calls to Jubilee down the hall, where she’s getting ready in her room, hoping she’ll change her mind about wearing something nice and just go in jeans like she usually does. “Everyone is going to be too wasted to remember anything tomorrow anyway.” He’s pretty sure he won’t be able to focus on anything else tonight if she wears one of the flashy little dresses he knows are tucked into the back of her closet.

Jubilee scoffs at him from the other room and the cat on his chest opens one bleary eye to glare at him. “Just because you wear the same leather and flannel combination to every party doesn’t mean the rest of us have to,” she reminds him.

He rolls his eyes and the cat stands up, stepping on his ribs and stretching before hopping off the couch and stalking away, clearly bored of waiting with him. Sweet Pea watches Howard as the cat trots off into the kitchen just as Toni walks out. She does her best to avoid the cat, but Howard still hisses when he sees her.

“Asshole,” she murmurs, glaring at the retreating feline before plopping down on the chair in the living space and pulling out her phone.

Sweet Pea raises a brow from his spot on the couch. “No Nat tonight?” he questions. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it, knowing it’s only Fangs wondering where they are and why they aren’t already at the party and why he has to wait for them alone. If Fangs didn’t want to wait by himself he should have waited with the rest of them.

“Nah,” Toni shakes her head, still typing furiously. “She had some project to finish up. She and a few other ceramics majors are going to pull an all nighter and hope they don’t break the kiln like they did last year. Or each others pieces. Nat was pissed last year when that freshman’s piece exploded and took hers with it.”

He hums in agreement, remembering that particular incident. He’s pretty sure Natalia would have killed the poor kid if one of the other majors hadn’t stopped her. The whole thing was an accident, but it’s still ridiculously shitty when something like that happens. Sweet Pea had one of his watercolors absolutely drenched last year by someone that wasn’t paying attention, so he gets it.

“So how’s your project coming along?” Toni asks him casually, glancing up at him over her phone, a little smile on her face. “Jubilee said you asked her, but she hasn’t said much since.”

Sweet Pea shrugs. “It’s been a busy week,” he tells her, brushing it off. It’s part of the reason, but when Toni purses her lips, Sweet Pea knows she doesn’t quite believe him.

Toni narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth, and Sweet Pea groans, not wanting to get into this conversation with Toni, of all people. Not only is she practically his younger sister, she’s also one of Jubilee’s best friends. And talking about Jubilee agreeing to model naked for him is edging towards very dangerous territory.

Toni’s gaze shifts to something above him, her lips twisting into a large grin. “Damn, girl, you look hot tonight,” she jokes. Frowning, Sweet Pea sits up on his elbows, peering over the back of the couch.

He nearly chokes when he sees Jubilee coming down the hall. Sweet Pea’s heart lodges in his throat as his eyes trace down her frame, taking in the short, tight, plum colored dress clinging to every inch of her. The cut of the dress leaves her legs bare and her heels make them look so much longer than usual, and even from here he can see a teasing amount of her cleavage that makes his mouth go dry.

Jubilee rolls her eyes, a grin pulling at her mouth at Toni’s complement. “You say that all the time, Toni,” she chastises, amusement lighting up her eyes.

“Yeah, because it’s  _true_.”

Shaking her head, Jubilee’s gaze shifts from her roommate to Sweet Pea, catching him staring as she comes around the couch into the living space. Something he doesn’t recognize flickers across her face, but it’s gone just as quickly as she sends him a sweet smile. “Hey, Sweets,” she starts almost too casually, “zip me up? I can’t reach.”

The question hits him in the gut and his breath catches.

He blinks at her owlishly as she grins at him, taking her lower lip between her teeth. Toni snorts, muttering “unbelievable” as Sweet Pea sits up on the couch. He hesitates for just a second before standing, ignoring Toni’s blatant amusement as he steps over to Jubilee, who shifts around so he can reach the zipper on her dress.

Sweet Pea swallows as she brushes her hair to the side, letting the wavy strands drape over her left shoulder. It’s hard not to stare at the open expanse of her back: soft, creamy skin and the gentle curve of her spine leading up to her neck. The zipper is low on the small of her back, the delicate, off-shoulder straps the only thing holding up the front of her dress, and he nearly groans when he sees she isn’t wearing a bra.

“Where’s Lydia?” Toni asks Jubilee, crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair.

“Finishing her hair.” Sweet Pea’s left hand settles on Jubilee’s waist and she takes a sudden breath. His finger find the zipper, big and a little clumsy as he takes it between his thumb and first digit. “She should be done in just a minute.”

Toni hums. “I’m surprised she wanted to come tonight.”

Sweet Pea tugs on the zipper slowly and Jubilee shivers as his knuckles brush against her soft skin. “She doesn’t,” Jubilee tells Toni, laughing lightly, “but I’m getting really close to throwing that piano out of the window.”

“Well at least you got that paper done early.” Amusement is thick in Toni’s voice, like she’s trying not to laugh, and Jubilee mumbles her agreement.

Even with her heels, Jubilee is still so much shorter than him, and from where he’s standing behind her he has an almost perfect view down the front of her dress. His eyes are drawn to the soft rise and fall of her chest as Jubilee’s back arches under his touch, and he rips his gaze away from the teasing amount of her cleavage on display. His fingers linger as he reaches the top of the dress, his knuckles brushing against the faint, silver scar on the back of her shoulder.

She looks at him over her shoulder but makes no move to pull away from his touch, even as his thumb traces the mark on her skin. “Thanks, Sweets,” she whispers, breathy and so soft he wouldn’t hear her if she wasn’t so close. Distantly, he realizes she smells like roses.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, staring a little too long at her lips.

Lydia bursts out of the bathroom, shouting “I’m ready!”, and Sweet Pea yanks his hands away from Jubilee, shoving them into his pockets as he turns around.

“About damn time, Boyd,” he jokes, shaking off the tension and making her roll her eyes at him in annoyance. He glances back at Toni and Jubilee as Lydia walks into the living room, nearly tipping over as she fixes the strap on one of her heels. “You guys ready to go? Fangs is gonna start bitching soon if we don’t leave.”

Toni sends him an incredulous look before glancing at Jubilee and shaking her head.

* * *

 

The frat house is already crowded by the time the four of them get there, Fangs waiting impatiently for them out front, his foot tapping against the front porch. Music blares from inside and Sweet Pea is only a little surprised the cops haven’t already been called on Sigma. It wouldn’t be the first their parties have been shut down early and it’s only a matter of time before they get more than a slap on the wrist.

Sweet Pea can’t say he’ll be too disappointed when that happens.

When he makes a face at the house Jubilee rolls her eyes and grabs him by the hand, pulling him along behind her. Sweet Pea follows after her willingly, fighting to keep his eyes off her ass in her short dress. He catches Toni’s eye as the walk up the porch steps and she smirks at him. Sweet Pea pretends he doesn’t see it as his fingers lace through Jubilee’s.

“You guys are late,” Fangs calls to them as they get close, hands on his hips and an irritated look on his face. “We agreed on ten.” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, knowing it’s not any later than fifteen after and Fangs is just being a big baby over nothing.

“Blame them not me,” Sweet Pea huffs as he’s led up the stairs. Getting Jubilee, Toni, and Lydia anywhere is like trying to herd cats and he’s pretty sure they do it on purpose just to fuck with him. That’s something they would absolutely do.

Fangs ignores him. “Get your game face on, Pea.” He reaches around Jubilee to slap Sweet Pea on the shoulder. “We’re playing beer pong in fifteen and I am not losing to some Sigma assholes in front of pretty girls.” Before Sweet Pea can argue about not signing up for a beer pong match, Fangs yanks open the front door and tosses his arms around Toni and Lydia’s shoulders. Both girls roll their eyes but let him lead them inside the frat house. Fangs leans down to whisper something in Lydia’s ear that makes her gasp and shove at his shoulder, making Fangs and Toni both laugh as Lydia turns red.

Sweet Pea waits for Jubilee to follow after and pull him along with her, but she doesn’t. He glances down at her when she hesitates and a frown twists at his lips when he sees an odd look in her eyes. It takes him a second to remember she hasn’t been to a frat party since their second year, after the time Kevin had to call him to pick her up.

“You okay, Doll?” he asks her, voice low against her ear as he ducks his head to her level. A couple of guys come up behind them and Sweet Pea guides her to the side, away from the door.

Her fingers squeeze around his. “Yeah,” she tells him, still staring at the front door, eyes far away. His palm presses against her hip and she jolts slightly, turning back to him with a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sweet Pea keeps his hand on her hip, keeping her steady. “Jubilee, if you want to leave…” he trails off, leaving the offer hanging in the air. If she doesn’t want to be here he’ll take her anywhere else she wants to be. He can deal with Fangs later.

“I’m fine, Sweets,” she repeats. Jubilee’s hand slides up his arm to squeeze his bicep, her touch reassuring as she tilts her head back to look him in the eyes, a more genuine smile on her lips. The nervous glint he saw before is gone as quickly as it was there and he relaxes as her thumb strokes back and forth across his flannel over-shirt. “I promise.”

He sighs but nods, and she stretches up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. He leans into her without really thinking about it and Jubilee’s hand slides back down his arm. Sweet Pea lets her pull him into the frat house despite the uneasy feeling swirling in his stomach.

Somehow fifteen minutes turns into nearly an hour as Sweet Pea waits for Fangs to find him in the house. He isn’t particularly interested in playing beer pong so that Fangs can find someone to hookup with tonight, content to stand against one of the walls in the open living space and keep an eye on the girls as they have a good time. Parties have never been Sweet Pea’s thing. They’re too loud and crowded and are only good for lousy hookups and cheep beer.

And he still has the good whiskey back at his place.

Laughter rumbles in his chest as he stares at the girls, nursing a bottle of beer. Lydia has downed two fruity drinks in the last hour and is already acting a little goofy, pulling out dance moves that make everyone else in the room look like professionals. Jubilee is laughing too hard to finish her own drink and Toni has her phone out, filming Lydia and offering her encouragements.

“Sweet Pea!” His eyes snap away from the girls as a hand grabs him by the arm and yanks him away from the wall. Sweet Pea stumbles slightly, nearly spilling his beer, and he shoots Fangs an irritated look when his friend tries to drag him across the room. “I’ve been looking for you for like twenty minutes,” Fangs huffs, glaring up at him half-heartedly. Sweet Pea’s brows narrow in confusion and Fangs rolls his eyes. “We’re up dude!”

Snorting, Sweet Pea downs the rest of his drink and leaves the empty bottle on the nearest surface. He casts another look back at the girls to make sure they’re okay before following his friend. “You do know you’re shit at beer pong, right?” he reminds Fangs.

The only reason the two of them ever won at beer pong back in high school is because Sweet Pea used to play on the basketball team, and he hasn’t done that in almost four years. Besides, the only good part about beer pong is watching Fangs suck at it.

“Fuck you, Pea,” Fangs shoves at his shoulder, barely moving him, and Sweet Pea laughs. “I’m great at beer pong!”

“You’re good at losing at beer pong,” he corrects. “I think Lydia is better at beer pong than you, and one time she last by over twenty points playing mini-golf.”

Fangs rolls his eyes. “Mini-golf isn’t exactly a sport.”

“And beer pong is?”

“Irrelevant.” Fangs waves him off. “A hot blonde offered to kiss the winning team and she’s  _ _exactly__  my type.” He looks up at Sweet Pea, wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously and Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. The only qualification for someone to be Fangs’ type is that they’re breathing. He doesn’t exactly have quality standards.

He doesn’t complain as Fangs leads him over to the beer pong table set up on the far side of the room. There’s a decent amount of people clustered around the table as a couple of Sigma guys set up the game, spacing the cups out evenly. Sweet Pea isn’t sure what’s entertaining about beer pong aside from watching the players get drunk off their asses, but he doesn’t think about it for long.

One game should be enough for someone in the crowd to want to fuck Fangs, and then Sweet Pea can go back to drinking and skulking in the corner of the room.

He and Fangs slip through the crowd and stop at one end of the table. A pair of Sigma brothers glance up when they see Fangs, clearly recognizing him from somewhere, but their eyes widen just a little when they see Sweet Pea and it makes him grin and straighten even further, happy to intimidate a couple of asshole frat guys.

“This your partner, Fogarty?” one of them asks as they walk up. “You weren’t fucking kidding,” he mumbles. Sweet Pea quirks a brow, but doesn’t question it. He’s better off not knowing what Fangs says about him when he’s not around.

“I’m Kyle,” the other one says. He’s shorter, blond with a good-natured grin on his face and definitely less sober than his friend. “That’s Tyler.” He gestures to his partner, who just rolls his eyes and turns back to the setup.

“Sweet Pea,” is all he says in return, already ready for the game to be over. He turns away from Kyle, searching the room and relaxing when he sees the girls chatting near one of the walls, the three of them laughing about something.

He only half-pays attention to the game, even as it draws a slightly larger crowd. The girls never join, content on the other side of the room where it’s less crowded, and Sweet Pea is angled in a way that he can keep an eye on them while he plays.

Sweet Pea hasn’t missed a shot yet, and the game is going by painfully slow. Fangs is more tipsy than he is, a little wobbly on his feet, and he keeps missing his shots, but they aren’t losing the match yet. The Sigma team is struggling just as much. Kyle is about as sober as Fangs, but the other one, Tyler, is definitely the better player of the two, and he’s pretty sure Fangs is going to be in a world of hurt in the morning because of it.

They aren’t playing a traditional game of beer pong and Sweet Pea isn’t exactly impressed by the house rules. When someone sinks a shot a member of the other team drinks, and while Sweet Pea is buzzed at best because of Kyle’s poor shots, Fangs isn’t doing quite as well.

A smile pulls at his lips when he watches Jubilee throw her head back in laughter at something Toni says. Her eyes crinkle at the edges, a wide grin spread across her face. The low lighting makes her look hazy and his eyes drag along her frame slowly, lingering on the hem of her dress for a moment. Jubilee turns suddenly, her eyes meeting his across the room, so much darker than usual and they drag him in deep. Her smile shifts into something soft when she catches him staring, and he should be embarrassed, but he can’t bring himself to look away from her.

“Which one is your girl?” His eyes snap away from her at the sudden question. Across the table, Tyler is staring in the direction Sweet Pea was, eyes following the girls for a moment before sliding back to Sweet Pea lazily. “You keep looking at them.”

Sweet Pea’s brows furrow slightly, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Just friends,” he tells the other man after a moment, unsure why he’s asking. “I’ve known them since high school.”

Tyler nods slowly, gaze drifting back to the girls as Fangs sinks his shot. “Good to know,” Tyler tells him, picking up the cup from the table and fishing out the ball Fangs sunk. “Any of them single?” He downs the beer.

Sweet Pea clenches his jaw. “No.” Fangs glances at him, quirking a brow, but Sweet Pea ignores it, staring at the man across the table.

“Shame,” Tyler says, tossing the ball into the air and catching it again. He looks across the room at Jubilee, Lydia, and Toni, staring for a little too long, and Sweet Pea’s long fingers curl into tight fists. “The one in the purple dress is a nice piece of ass,” he mentions casually. “She has some really nice cocksucker lips.”

A dark, bitter laugh bubbles up from Sweet Pea’s chest as his opponent mentions Jubilee. He looks up at Tyler and the humor immediately slips from his face. “You talk about her like that again and I’m gonna take that ping pong ball and shove it down your throat.” The threat draws a few murmurs from the crowd but he doesn’t give a damn. “Now take your shot.”

The game is tense after that, and his irritation makes him sloppy, which only drags it out longer. Eventually, they’re down to one cup on each side and it’s Fangs shot. If he doesn’t sink it they’ll definitely lose the game. Sweet Pea wouldn’t care much, but he’s tired and pissed and a little drunk, and he doesn’t want to see the Sigma team win.

“Dammit, Fangs,” Sweet Pea huffs as he leans against the ping pong table, watching as Fangs sways slightly in place, one arm raised to throw. “Just throw the fucking ball.”

“Fuck you, Sweet Pea, there are like three of them,” Fangs hisses back a him, squinting to get a better look at the cup. “I can’t see shit.”

“I swear to god, Fangs, if you let them win—”

Fangs squeezes his eyes shut and tosses the ball. Sweet Pea’s eyes widen as he follows the ball, his mouth dropping open when it drops into the last cup of beer with a gentle splash.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, dimly registering the crowd cheering and the frat boys swearing as they lose. Fangs lets out a drunken “whoop!” and punches his shoulder, but Sweet Pea only stares at the cup in bewilderment, smug satisfaction curling through him when Tyler downs the drink and crumples it in his fist.

He’s eyes seek out Jubilee in the crowd without him really thinking about it, and maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that she’s already looking at him, but Sweet Pea breaks into a wide grin that she mirrors. He pushes away from the table, swaying for a second as he’s suddenly hit with the sheer amount of alcohol he’s had in the last hour. Jubilee’s eyes flicker with amusement as he stumbles and she breaks away from the girls, heading towards him.

Sweet Pea’s chest tightens as he stares at her, heart pounding harder the closer she gets.

Soft hands cup his face and he’s suddenly ripped away from Jubilee. Before he really realizes what’s happening there’s a pair of lips on his, fingers clenching in his hair and yanking him down. He inhales sharply, stiffening at the unexpected kiss and the hands running through his hair and cupping his cheek.

He doesn’t see the way Jubilee’s steps falter halfway to him or the open, raw hurt the flickers in her eyes when the stranger kisses him, and by the time he pulls away from the drunk blonde that quickly moves onto Fangs, Jubilee is already gone.

It’s a little after midnight and he’s back where he started, leaning against the far wall, eyes searching the room. It’s only become more crowded as the night’s gone on, and he can’t find any of his friends. There’s a nervous pinch in his gut when he doesn’t immediately find the girls, but he knows them well enough to know they’ve stuck together. And Toni promised to stay sober for the night, so at least one of them is making good decisions. He’s not sure where Fangs went off to either. Last Sweet Pea saw of him, he was making out with the blonde that kissed Sweet Pea after the beer pong match.

“Sweet Pea!” His blinks in confusion at the sound of his name, his eyes narrowing when he sees Lydia shoving her way through the packed room.

“Lydia?” he asks, a tinge of relief in his voice. “What are you—”

She cuts him off before he can finish, grabbing his hand and yanking him back in the direction she came from. Sweet Pea lets her pull him around, trying to follow the rush off words slipping out of her. “I don’t know what to do,” she tells him, voice higher than usual, almost scared. “Toni said to get you. I don’t—”

“Lydia—”

“Something’s wrong with Jubilee,” she tells him, and it’s like the ground is yanked out from beneath him. He doesn’t say a word as she pulls him into the kitchen and his eyes immediately find Toni and Jubilee on the floor. Jubilee is trembling, breaths coming in wheezing gasps as Toni strokes her hair and murmurs quietly in her ear.

Sweet Pea’s heart stops when he sees her like that, already knowing what’s wrong. “What happened?” he asks as he pulls out of Lydia’s grip and drops onto his knees in front of Jubilee. Toni looks up at him, relief in her eyes,

“I found her taking shots with Fangs and then some asshole grabbed her and—” She cuts off, shaking her head as anger flashes in her eyes.

Sweet Pea swears under his breath, anger surging inside him, but he swallows it back. It’s not what he needs to focus on right now. “Hey,” he coos, reaching for Jubilee slowly. She flinches, sucking in a sharp breath, and he places a hand on her bare leg, trying to get her to look at him. “Hey, Doll, it’s just me,” he murmurs. “Jubilee, it’s just me.”

“Sweets?” she breathes back, his name soft and so shaky that it breaks his head. Jubilee peers up at him through watery eyes, and this time she doesn’t move as he reaches for her, placing a hand on her cheek and letting his thumb brush against her skin.

He tries to smile for her. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, hushing her gently, wanting her to focus on him and not the crowd of people that’s taken notice of her panic attack.

“Is she okay?” He glances away from Jubilee for a second to look at the stranger who’s come up to them, concerned. Sweet Pea recognizes a Sigma insignia on his jacket.

“Is there somewhere I can take her?” he asks, slipping an arm around Jubilee’s back and lifting her, holding her close to his chest as he stands up. Her breathing is choppy, too fast against his neck, and her fingers clench in his flannel. The Sigma member nods at him, gesturing for Sweet Pea to follow him.

Sweet Pea sits with her in some strangers bedroom for too long, Jubilee’s back pressed up against his chest as she trembles, a shivering mess in his arms. He talks her through it, whispering in her ear and stroking her hair, reminding her to take deep breaths. Nails dig into his arm as her breathing slowly evens, her wheezing gasps crumbling into sobs. He rocks them gently, lips pressed against her temple.

It takes almost a half-hour for Jubilee to calm down and by then she’s practically boneless against him, exhausted. Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck and she sighs.

“You okay, Baby?” he murmurs, gently running his hands up and down her arms as she hiccups. Jubilee curls further into his chest, one of her hands blindly groping until she finds his. Her fingers squeeze around his tightly and she nods jerkily. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, a little too fast, and he laces their fingers together. He need to get her out of here. Take her somewhere else.

She’s quiet for a long time. The only sound in the room is the thumbing bass from downstairs, muffled by the closed door. Finally, Jubilee shifts, moving just enough to look up at him, her eyes bloodshot and wet. “Take me home, Sweets?”

He knows she doesn’t mean her apartment.

* * *

 

The walk back to Sweet Pea’s apartment is quiet. Jubilee’s arms are loose around his neck and her head is lolled against his shoulder, her dark hair tickling at his collarbone. He figures she must have fallen asleep sometime during the walk, even if it wasn’t far between his place and the frat party, only ten blocks at best, not far from campus. It’s not surprising really, that she would fall asleep. She’s been busy all week and between the drinking and her panic attack earlier she’s bound to be exhausted.

It would have been best if they just stayed in tonight, but Fangs always has had a way with persuasion.

Jubilee doesn’t stir until he shifts her in his grasp, grip tight on her back as he pulls his keys from his pocket, trying not to jostle her too much as he unlocks the front door. She makes a quiet sound against his ear, pressing her face deeper into the curve of his shoulder. Sweet Pea hushes her gently, one hand rubbing her back soothingly as he steps into his apartment and kicks the door shut behind him, wincing at the bang that echoes in the otherwise silent room.

“Sweets?” she mumbles against his neck, warm breath sending an aching shiver down his spine. Her grip around him tightens just the slightest, limp arms moving, her fingertips dragging up his back over his flannel.

“What is it, Doll?” he murmurs back, dropping her shoes just inside of the door and tossing his keys onto the little side-table. Sweet Pea hooks an arm under her thighs, hiking her up higher as she starts to slip from his arms. “You feelin’ any better?” She doesn’t respond and he isn’t sure if she’s asleep again or not. “You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow, Jubilee, you know that? You’ve never been able to handle tequila and you thought matching shots with Fangs was a good idea?” He chuckles. It’s always easier on her not to mention the panic attacks. Usually she doesn’t remember them the next day. “You should know better than to let him talk you into—”

“Sweet Pea.” He cuts off abruptly, glancing down at her as she shifts in his grasp, pulling her head away from his shoulder. She looks up at him, blinking slowly, half-awake and exhausted from crying earlier, and there’s something he’s never seen before in her big, dark eyes. Something soft and fond, but determined. It makes him pause just a few steps into his apartment, the look in her eyes pinning him in place.

He frowns. “What’s wrong, Jubilee—”

Sweet Pea barely gets her name out before she surges upwards, lips sealing over his in a gentle kiss. He inhales sharply through his nose as one of her hands fists in his hair and Jubilee pulls him down to meet her. For a second he can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think as her mouth moves against his, slow and coaxing. Her chest presses against his and her thighs flex around his hips at the same time as she releases a soft, quivering sound against his lips.

A thud echoes through the apartment as he presses her against his front door, mouth moving against hers frantically. Sweet Pea’s heart pounds erratically in his chest, blood roaring in his ears as he’s lost in the taste of her, something like honey, sweet and thick on his tongue. Jubilee’s arches into his touch, her chest pressing flush against his as her hands rake through his hair, pulling harshly and drawing a low grunt from Sweet Pea. He grips at her thighs, her hips, wanting her closer, and a low, throaty sound rumbles through him when her legs tighten around his waist.

His mouth leaves her to wander along her soft skin, lips on her jaw and trailing lower as she breathes heavily against his ear. He suckles at her neck, leaving faint, red marks in his wake as her fingers dig into his shoulders. Sweet Pea presses her harder against the door and she sighs. His name leaves her lips in a breathy moan and a sick feeling curls in his stomach as he realizes what he’s doing.

One of his hands leaves her soft skin, his fist banging against the door beside his head as he rips his mouth away from her racing pulse. The little bruises on her neck make his gut clench painfully, and he’d kick himself if she wasn’t still wrapped around him, her fingers playing with his hair and her legs wound around his hips.

Jubilee peers up at him with bleary eyes, still rimmed slightly with red, evidence of the party’s events. Sweet Pea immediately feels like shit. Hot, white guilt cuts through him like a knife.

“Dammit!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a second before looking down at her again. “You’re drunk,” he tells her, a lump growing in his throat as she continues to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He feels like he’s on fire as her fingertips slide across his skin, and Sweet Pea wants nothing more than to lean into her touch, to pull her back into him and taste her skin like he’s wanted to do for years but knew he couldn’t.

But she’s drunk.

There’s a look in her eyes like she wants to deny it, but she’s flushed and unfocused and he knows he’s not sober either. “Yeah,” she finally responds, so much softer than usual, and it makes something in his chest tighten, his heart squeezing painfully beneath his ribs.

“You’re not gonna remember this tomorrow.” She looks up at him sadly and he releases a slow breath through his nose as he pushes away from the door. Jubilee’s grip on him tightens as she’s suddenly airborne again and Sweet Pea cradles her close to his chest with an arm banded around her back. “Right, that’s what I thought.”

He fucked up. It was never supposed to get this far and he fucked up. Sweet Pea knows how she gets when she drinks tequila.

Jubilee drops her head back against his shoulder, her fingers clenching tightly in the back of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, lips tickling the side of his neck just above his Serpent tattoo. She noses at him, curling close against his chest in some sort of apology, and one of his hands slides up to cup the back of her head and stoke her hair.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Baby,” he promises her, sighing.

Sweet Pea carries her through his apartment, moving carefully in the dark, and she’s quiet again by the time he drops her down onto his bed. He drapes the blanket over her as she curls up, a soft, content sound slipping from her as she sinks into the mattress. Crouching beside the bed, Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her face, a bitter smile tugging at his lips when she leans into his touch.

He pulls his hand away from her and drops down to the floor, his back pressed against the bed as he stares into the darkness in the room. There’s a dull ache already forming behind his eyes and Sweet Pea knows tomorrow is going to be a shitty day. The exhaustion of tonight is already weighing on him and he can only hope that Jubilee drank enough to not remember any of it.

Already he wants to forget.

Rubbing a tired hand down the side of his face, Sweet Pea pulls at his hair painfully. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head back against the bed. Jubilee’s soft breathing and his erratic heartbeat are the only sounds in the room, and Sweet Pea basks in the silence. When he finally forces his eyes open again the first thing he sees is his large sketchbook resting on the easel in the corner of his room.


	3. Part Three

With everything that happened last night, Sweet Pea didn’t take into account the fact he’d have one bitch of a hangover in the morning.

He pops two Advil and downs a glass of water as soon as he wakes up, grateful that his non-sober self remembered to leave them on the coffee table. Blankets pool around his waist as he shifts on the couch, stretching and wincing as his back cracks loudly. Sweet Pea groans as he rubs at his eyes, swearing under his breath at the light streaming in through the large, open windows lining the far wall.

The windows were what sold him on this apartment: big and tall and perfect for painting in the early morning. The view out the window is probably the best thing about his cramped studio apartment. When the sun rises everything turns to gold, the light filtering into the room perfectly. Sweet Pea was never an early riser until he started living here, far more content to sleep in and work into the late afternoon. But the lighting was too tempting to ignore, especially after he started getting into some of his more difficult classes.

Now, at seven on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, he’s really starting to reconsider that view.

Sweet Pea sets his glass down gently and slips off the couch. He sucks in a sharp breath at the slight ache in his right side, his ribs still tender from a brawl years back in Riverdale. It doesn’t hurt often, but the couch is cramped and he must have slept on his side.

Squinting through the harsh morning light, he glances over at his bed tucked away in the corner. Something in his chest constricts and then loosens again when he sees Jubilee on his bed. The blankets are low on her hips and twisted around her legs, but she hasn’t moved much since he set her down last night. She’s not usually that heavy of a sleeper, but between the tequila and her panic attack she must have been exhausted last night.

His tongue flicks out across his lips as he stares at her, the fuzzy details of last night piecing back together and hitting him hard.

Jubilee  _kissed_  him last night.

She kissed him and they were drunk and he never should have kissed her back and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do now. It would have been so easy to just keep kissing her, to let everything fall into place like it should have years ago, but he couldn’t. Sweet Pea’s always known exactly how he feels about her. He could lie to everyone else, but never himself. He’s always loved her more than he should, more than he’s  _allowed_  to.

Last night brought him to a place he doesn’t want to think about, but now that door is open and he doesn’t know how to close it again. This entire week has wrecked havoc on him with the damn project always lingering in the back of his mind. He should have known better than to ask Jubilee to model for him. To let his thoughts drift towards picturing her like that. Before asking her, he was always able to shove his feelings down and ignore them.

But not anymore.

Sweet Pea catches himself staring and manages to peel his gaze away from Jubilee with some difficulty. It’s hard not to look at her like that: relaxed and curled up on his bed, hair a mess, and all of the stress from earlier in the week chased away. She looks soft there, with the morning light spilling in through the window.

Swallowing, he turns away from her, cursing as he jerks around and a dull ache spreads behind his eyes. His stomach churns and gurgles and Sweet Pea winces, but nothing else happens. It’s been awhile since he went drinking like last night. Usually, he’s more content to stay home and drink, or go to one of the bars nearby with Fangs. He forgot how shitty college parties make him feel the next morning.

He blames the beer pong.

Once he’s sure he’s not going to throw up, Sweet Pea sighs and shakes his head. Not even ten minutes have past since he woke up and he already feels jittery, the apartment suddenly suffocating. His mouth is dry and the taste of cheap beer and something sweeter that he tries not to think about lingers on his tongue. He casts another glance at Jubilee and then swears, groaning low in his throat.

He’s absolutely fucked and he knows it too. He’s in way too deep and only has two days left to finish his project for his art class. It’s going to be difficult looking Jubilee in the eyes later after last night, and he’s pretty sure that seeing her naked isn’t going to help with that.

It’s all way too much to process this early on a Saturday.

Belatedly, he wonders if it’s too late to ask someone else to model for him. Maybe he can still ask Fangs instead. But it’s still too early and he doubts Fangs will be awake anytime soon, judging by how much he drank last night.

Fangs isn’t exactly a lightweight, but last Sweet Pea saw him he wasn’t looking so great. Hopefully Toni and Lydia managed to get him home without too much trouble.

Sweet Pea’s stomach grumbles again as he flicks through his phone, seeing a slew of nonsensical texts from Fangs that he ignores, and one from Lydia letting him know that she and Toni got home safe and wondering how Jubilee is doing. He types out a brief, vague answer about how she’s still asleep and pockets his phone again before leaning back against the kitchen counter, his fingers drumming against the smooth surface.

Glancing at Jubilee again, he chews the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowed as he watches the gentle rise and fall of her back. Sweet Pea stares at her for a moment, gaze tracing the curve of her back and the relaxed expression on her face.

His keys jingle as he swipes them off the counter and shoves them in the pocket of his jeans from last night.

He wants pancakes.

* * *

 

The apartment is unusually quiet when Sweet Pea comes home from the little diner down the block.

He juggles two takeout bags filled with breakfast in his arms, trying not to drop them as he fumbles with the lock on the front door. It takes him a minute to find the right key and he swears when he nearly drops them. The Advil was slow to work and the short walk to the diner did nothing to help his headache or the dry feeling in his mouth. It took him longer than usual to make the short trip to the diner and back and he almost threw up in a bush on the way there, but the savory smell of pancakes and bacon coming from the bags more than makes up for it.

It’s the closest thing to Pop’s breakfast food they have this far from Riverdale, and they could both use some comfort food after last night.

Sweet Pea nudges the door with his shoulder, easing it open as quietly as he can, not wanting to wake Jubilee if she’s still asleep. She deserves a break after last night. Though, it may be better to wake her up and get some food in her to soak up the tequila.

Immediately, his eyes search the room for her, checking to make sure he didn’t accidentally wake her. A frown twists at his mouth and his eyes narrow in confusion when he doesn’t find her where he left her a half-hour ago.

His bed is empty. The sheets are rumpled, hastily thrown back and laying in a pile at the foot of the bed, but the rest of the apartment is undisturbed. She’s not nursing her headache on the couch or fumbling around in his kitchen with the ancient coffeemaker that only she uses.

Did she leave while he was gone?

Jubilee’s always been an early riser, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she was already awake, but he’s pretty sure the hangover she’s bound to have is a nasty one. Tequila has never agreed with her and while he’s not sure how much she drank, it was probably a lot more than she can usually handle. She might not be a lightweight, but she’s tiny and can’t throw back drinks like the rest of them. Granted, she has a better tolerance than Lydia, but that’s not saying much.

Sweet Pea steps further into the room, his grip tightening on the takeout bags, but he relaxes again when he sees her shoes and bag still laying in a pile on the floor, unmoved from where he dropped them the previous night.

She didn’t leave.

That must be a good sign. Either she doesn’t remember kissing him, or she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It would be more awkward if she snuck out while he was gone.

The toilet flushes and a muffled swear comes from the bathroom. Sweet Pea glances over his shoulder, noticing the light in the bathroom is on and the door is cracked open. He drops the paper bags on the counter with a sigh and runs a hand through his messy hair, shoving the strands away from his eyes before heading towards the bathroom.

“Jubilee?” he murmurs, knocking lightly on the frame to get her attention. She doesn’t respond to him and he groans, keeping his eyes on the floor as he nudges open the door slowly, giving her enough time to stop him if she needs to.

Jubilee barely reacts as he slips into the room and she looks smaller than usual sitting on his bathroom floor in her dress from last night, clearly exhausted and hung-over. She’s squeezed between the toilet and the wall, her head lolled back against the tiles and her legs stretched out, the skirt of her dress riding up on her thighs. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and there’s sweat beading at her hairline. A shiver wracks through her and she cracks open an eye to peek up at him, looking paler than usual and absolutely miserable.

“I’m beginning to think college parties aren’t my thing,” she mumbles, her dark eyes rimmed in red. Seeing her like that makes something inside his chest squeeze, but he shoves it down when Jubilee gives him a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Sweet Pea chuckles as he sinks down onto the floor across from her, his back against the bathtub. “I could have told you that, Doll,” he teases, resting his elbows against his bent knee and knocking his foot against her bare leg. She groans, sending him an annoyed look that’s offset by the twitch of her lips.

She doesn’t respond as she drops her head back against the wall, her eyes flickering shut. Jubilee’s body sags against the tiles as she sighs and leans her temple against the wall. Her foot nudges against his. Sweet Pea stays silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks her over, making sure she’s okay.

Her joking is a good sign, but Jubilee has always been a good at putting up a front, never wanting to make people worry.

After taking a series of slow, steadying breaths, Jubilee forces her eyes open again and meets his gaze. “Remind me to kill Fangs the next time I see him.” She huffs, squinting slightly at the bright lights in the bathroom.

Sweet Pea snorts, rolling his eyes. “You should know better than to let him talk you into matching shots by now,” he says, an echo of what he told her last night as he was carrying her into the apartment. His thoughts shift to the little sigh that left her as his lips trailed along her neck and his jaw clenches. “Fangs isn’t exactly a lightweight, Jubilee.” Neither is she, but Fangs has a good fifty pounds on her.

She shrugs, pursing her lips in annoyance. “I would have won if it wasn’t tequila,” she tells him. “Fangs knows I can’t keep it down. The fucking  _cheater_.” Sweet Pea chuckles and Jubilee groans again. She draws her legs up to her chest and drops them sideways to rest against the wall she’s leaning against. “I’m never drinking again,” she mumbles, rubbing at her temples.

“You’ve told me that before,” he reminds her. Jubilee doesn’t respond and he stretches out one of his legs, nudging her foot with his. “Why’d you let him talk you into shots anyway?”

She’s not as big of a drinker as the rest of them, given the struggle her father had with alcohol. And shots aren’t usually her thing unless she’s upset about something. As far as he’s aware, Jubilee was doing all right last night. Maybe a little stressed with her classes, but not enough to agree to shots with Fangs. He can be persuasive, but Jubilee doesn’t cave to anything she doesn’t want to do.

Jubilee hesitates before saying, “it doesn’t matter.” She waves off the frown he sends her. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly that was just the tequila talking.” She shrugs, her eyes slipping shut as she relaxes back against the tiles.

He nods slowly, deciding not to push it. “You feelin’ any better?” he asks instead, trying to gauge how much of last night she remembers. If she remembers taking shots, there’s a good chance she remembers the rest of the night, and that’s not something he knows how to talk about at the moment.

“I woke up this morning and immediately vomited for a solid twenty minutes,” she tells him, and he wrinkles his nose, trying not to wince at her frankness. “I don’t think I’ve ever thrown up that much before in my life. And that  _includes_  the Christmas party with Archie’s eggnog from Hell. My head hurts like a bitch, my mouth is dry, I’m starving, and I really don’t want to move, even though your floor is kind of disgusting.” His lips twitch up in amusement and Jubilee shoots him a wry smile. “I’m doing just  _peachy_ , Sweet Pea. How are you?”

Sweet Pea wets his lips, trying to hide a smile. “I’m not the one who had to be carried home, so I’m pretty good.” Jubilee glares at him.

“Oh, please,” she drawls back, rolling her eyes. “I’ve had to drag your dumb ass home plenty of times.” Jubilee purses her lips and crosses her arms, raising a brow at him. “Or did you forget New Years already?”

The teasing lilt to her voice only makes his smile widen, though he winces at the reminder of the party just a few months earlier. It wasn’t one of his finest moments. “Hey, we agreed not to talk about New Years,” he reminds her. “That was Fangs fault, not mine. He’s the one that pulled out the vodka.” She snorts and he narrows his eyes playfully. “And be nice, I let you take my bed and slept on the couch. You know that thing is shit.”

Jubilee sends him a look he can’t quite place. “I keep telling you we can just share the damn bed,” she says. His heart stutters at the seriousness in her voice and for a moment he can’t breathe. The bathroom suddenly seems too cramped, too hot, and Sweet Pea swallows thickly as Jubilee continues to stare at him, eyes searching his.

Before he can think too hard on the implication there, Jubilee’s stomach growls loudly, ripping through the tense silence. “Fuck, I need food,” Jubilee mutters, groaning and stretching out her legs again. “Please tell me you have something other than dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets?”

A surprised bark of laughter escapes from Sweet Pea and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, a nervous tick. He tries hard not to think about them sharing a bed again, but the image slips in anyway.

“I haven’t been grocery shopping in like two weeks,” he admits, shrugging half-heartedly. “So I guess it’s a good think I got breakfast this morning.”

Her eyes narrow. “Pancakes from Benny’s?” Sweet Pea nods and her eyes light up. A small, soft smile pulls at her lips and warmth floods his chest. “Blueberry or chocolate chip?”

“Chocolate chip, of course,” he tells her scoffing. “Who do you take me for?” He shifts on the floor, struggling to stand in the cramped bathroom.

Jubilee’s lips twitch as she watches him. “My hero.”

Sweet Pea’s smile slips just the slightest when it registers, and he tenses, towering over her. His gaze snaps back to Jubilee, still curled up against the wall and watching him with a look that’s heartbreakingly honest. Maybe it’s the look in her eyes or the soft way she said “hero”, but it makes his throat close up. For a moment he can’t breathe, pinned in place by her dark eyes that are so easy to get lost in.

He rips his gaze away and swallows. Jubilee is still watching him when he turns back to her, and Sweet Pea forces a grin as he reaches for her. “Come ‘ere, Doll.” Her hand slips into his and Sweet Pea hauls her up easily, his other hands settling on her hip when she wobbles, unstable on her feet. She inhales sharply at the contact, but he doesn’t move to step away.

Jubilee sinks into him without a word and Sweet Pea relaxes as well. His thumb strokes across her hip absentmindedly, and if she notices she doesn’t appear to care. The silky fabric of her dress tickles at his skin and he glances down at her, eyes raking across her frame.

She catches him staring and he swallows, suddenly reminded of last night and how close the two of them were, how she felt pressed up against him and the way her fingers dragged along his neck.

“Do you wanna change?” he blurts out, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

Her lips twitch. “Please.”

* * *

 

They end up sitting at the counter, the TV playing some old cartoon that neither of them are really paying attention to as they pick at their food. Just something to fill the silence. Jubilee is sitting on the counter in front of him, her bare legs dangling over the side and swinging back and forth lazily. Sweet Pea is on a stool in front of her, trying hard not to stare at the space where her shirt brushes her legs.

He nearly groaned out loud when she walked into the kitchen wearing one of his old flannels and nothing else, the shirt’s hem tickling at her thighs and leaving plenty of her creamy skin bare.

It was bad enough that she changed out in the open, Sweet Pea’s back to her as he fiddled with their takeout bags. He was ridiculously attentive to every move she made, and the sound of her unzipping her dress made him  _shiver_  and he hates how aware of her he is after last night.

He’s pretty sure she’s going to kill him at this rate.

Jubilee shifts beside him. Sweet Pea glances up at her as she sets her plate on the counter next to her hip. She looks better now, less pale as she leans back on her hands and closes her eyes, content.

Sweet Pea has to fight to keep his gaze from flicking down to the buttons of the flannel she’s left undone, the fabric revealing plenty of cleavage. Once again, Sweet Pea is painfully aware of the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra.

If Jubilee cares that he can basically see clear down the front of her shirt, she certainly doesn’t act like it.

“You planning to stay here today?” he asks her when the silence starts to be too much for him. It’s the same question he asked her earlier this week, before he asked her to model for him, and this time it feels different. There’s more weight to it, though he isn’t sure why.

Jubilee hums lightly, her fingers drumming against the countertop. “It’s quiet here,” she tells him eventually, fiddling with the sleeve of her borrowed flannel. “I’m supposed to start that paper for Tanner’s class soon,” she continues. The  _fuck that_  that follows is implied. “Asshole assigned a fifteen page paper due by Wednesday. And I’m sure Lydia is making up for last night by practicing all day.”

He’s not sure if that’s the answer he wants or not, but his arm brushes against her leg in a way that might mean  _stay_.

“I’m sure the girls will stop over later,” he murmurs back eventually. “Lydia and Toni were pretty worried last night.” They all were. It’s been a long time since Jubilee had a panic attack like that. He can’t remember one being that bad since their first year on campus when she went to that party with Kevin. “They were blowing up your phone this morning. You might wanna call them.”

She exhales through her nose. “They worry too much.”

“Nah,” he corrects her, nudging her leg again, “they just love you.”

They lapse into silence again. His gaze wanders around the room, Sweet Pea searching for anything to distract him from Jubilee. The sketchbook propped up on an easel in the corner catches his eye like it did last night, and he swallows back a low groan at the sight of it.

His project is due in two days and he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do anymore. He’s still reeling from that kiss last night and can’t stop thinking about the way she felt pressed against his chest, how he felt like he was coming home. Even now, he can still feel the tickle of her breath on his neck and it makes goosebumps rise on his arms.

It should be weird, the two of them eating breakfast together like normal after a night of drinking—after she  _kissed_  him—but it’s not. It’s completely natural and that throws him off. He’s still not sure if she remembers kissing him, and he doesn’t know if he should ask or forget about it.

“You gonna be okay here?” he ask instead. She frowns, her brows knitting together in confusion as he stands from the counter hurriedly, leaving his food half finished. Sweet Pea doesn’t wait for an answer as he swipes his keys and wallet of the counter and shoves them into his pocket. “There’s something I need to take care of. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Jubilee doesn’t react until he’s already across the room and grabbing his coat off the hook by the door.

“Sweets?” she calls out as he shrugs on his jacket. He glances at her over his shoulder. “Thanks, for taking care of me last night.” There’s something in her eyes that he doesn’t recognize, a little confused and a little hurt, but he pretends not to see it.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Doll.” He swallows, mouth dry. It hurts to look away from her, but he can’t be in this apartment anymore. Not right now.

Sweet Pea glances at her over his shoulder briefly as he slips out the door, and the disappointment that flashes in her eyes is the last thing he sees before the door closes with a quiet click.

He can’t draw her for his project.

* * *

 

The walk to Fang’s apartment isn’t long, but it gives him enough time to think and shove back the confusion and panic welling up inside him. It’s still chilly this early in the morning, spring coming in cold, and he focus on the weather instead of the fact that he has two days left to work on a project worth ten percent of his grade and his model, who happens to be one of his best friends, kissed him last night. While they were drunk. And he kissed her back. While shoving her against his front door. Classy.

He tries not to groan as he makes his way into the apartment complex and trudges up the stairs. Of all the things he expected to happen last night, making out with Jubilee was not one of them. He was prepared for crying and vomit, not learning exactly how she tasted and the sounds she made as he kissed down her neck.

Sweet Pea is absolutely fucked. He’s never been in this much trouble before, not even last summer when the Serpents got into it with the Ghoulies or the time he got stuck in a deal with Penny Peabody back in high school.

At least he knew how to deal with those things, but Jubilee? Jubilee’s always been the one thing he could never quite wrap his head around. He’s gotten good at ignoring how he feels and shoving it down so deep that most days he can forget about it, but now it’s there in the openand that’s something he doesn’t know how to deal with. He doesn’t know what that means for them and something squeezes in his chest until it hurts.

Sweet Pea shakes his head, already exhausted with everything that’s happened so far this morning. He’s been awake for barely three hours and already he wants to go back to bed and pretend the last two days haven’t happened.

He takes the stairs up to their apartment, too antsy to stand still in the elevator for the five flights up. Sweet Pea doesn’t bother to knock when he reaches the door, opting to just break in instead. The lock gives easily and he shoves open the front door of Fangs’ apartment, uncaring as it bangs against the wall. Joaquin and Kevin are probably already awake and Fangs isn’t going to be asleep for much longer anyway.

It’s not like he plans on being here long. He’s pretty sure he can get Fangs to agree fairly easily, if only because Fangs owes him a favor for that time Sweet Pea helped him paint set pieces for the play last year.

It surprises him when a groan sounds from the couch and a head of messy, dark hair pops up over the back. Sweet Pea startles slightly, but his shock melts into irritation quickly. A pair of bleary, blue eyes blinking at him in confusion. “Sweet Pea?” Jughead murmurs, yawning as he squints at his friend.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jones?” Sweet Pea sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Jughead is just about the last person Sweet Pea wants to deal with right now. While he hasn’t done anything particularly annoying lately, Sweet Pea can only handle the older Jones twin’s smart mouth in small doses without wanting to strangle him.

Jughead yawns again, altogether undisturbed to find Sweet Pea breaking into their friends’ apartment. “Archie brought a girl home last night,” he tells Sweet Pea, wrinkling his nose. “Sleeping here was the better option, even if it meant taking the couch.”

Sweet Pea nods absently, only half paying attention as he stares at Fangs’ bedroom door, which is cracked open just a little. “Did Fangs come home last night?”

“That or it was my dad snoring in his room all night.” Sweet Pea shoots him an unamused look and Jughead sighs in annoyance. “Yes he’s home. Toni had to call Joaquin and Kevin to come pick him up from the frat party you left them at and they dragged him in a little before two after dropping the girls off.” Jughead folds his arms across the back of the couch and rests his chin atop them. “Fangs offered me a striptease. I declined. He gave me one anyway.” Jughead makes a face and Sweet Pea snorts. “I never want to see Fangs take his shirt off ever again. How much did he drink last night anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone throw up so much in my entire life.”

“He busted out the tequila,” Sweet Pea explains vaguely, shrugging as he kicks off his shoes by the entrance. “You know he gets messy when he drinks that shit.” He debates shrugging off his leather jacket, but opts to keep it on for now.

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Oh, how could I forget considering the time he broke into my apartment and fell asleep in my bathtub? He nearly gave Archie a heart attack.”

“Andrews has seen worse.”

Sweet Pea starts to walk away, but Jughead calls him back before he can go far, making Sweet Pea sigh in annoyance. “What do you need Fangs for at…” Jughead trails off, gaze sliding to the clock on the wall in the kitchen that Kevin insists on keeping for the aesthetic, “eight-thirty on a Saturday? Why the fuck are you even awake right now?”

“He owes me a favor,” Sweet Pea says vaguely, much to Jughead’s apparent frustration. Despite them being much friendlier than they were back in high school, Sweet Pea has no intentions of spilling his guts to Jughead about his feelings for Jubilee. “I’m cashing in.”

Jughead’s eyes widen. “Christ, Sweet Pea, did you kill someone last night? Are you asking him to help you hide a body?”

“What?” His head snaps around and he frowns. “No! What the fuck, Jones?”

“It’s a valid question,” Jughead argues, though he calms quickly, apparently satisfied with Sweet Pea’s confusion. “I can never be sure with you two. We used to get into so much shit back in Riverdale.” He shakes his head, then turns back to Sweet Pea. “How’s Jubilee, by the way? Toni called and told me what happened.”

Sweet Pea stiffens, wincing. Even though he knows she’s fine now, he doesn’t like the reminder of last night. It’s sobering, to say the least. “She’s… okay,” he settles on, clearing his throat. “She’s okay. I got her to calm down last night and took her back to my place.”

“I figured.”

Jughead stares at him, eyes narrowed slightly. It’s unnerving, the way Jughead seems to look right through him, and Sweet Pea’s always hated the way Jughead tends to psycho analyze people. Sweet Pea meets his friend’s gaze regardless, clenching his jaw as he waits, practically daring Jughead to run his mouth.

Jughead surprises him by saying, “thanks for taking care of her.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes narrow in confusion. “It’s Jubilee,” is all he says before turning away and heading for Fangs’ bedroom, ignoring the way Jughead’s eyes follow him across the room.

He doesn’t bother to knock as he shoves Fangs’ door open the rest of the way.

Sweet Pea rolls his eyes when he finds Fangs sprawled across the bed on his stomach, drooling and snoring obnoxiously. The blankets are knotted around his feet and Sweet Pea is infinitely grateful that Fangs managed to keep his boxers on during his little striptease for Jughead last night.

Granted, he supposes it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he accidentally saw Fang’s dick today, considering why he’s here to begin with.

Taking a deep breath, Sweet Pea steels himself. It’s not going to be easy to wake up Fangs, given how heavy of a sleeper he is, but Sweet Pea has plenty of experience dragging Fangs out of bed before nine in the morning. With a frustrated groan, he crosses the room to Fangs and kicks at the leg dangling over the side of the bed. “Fangs,” he snaps, eyes narrowing when his friend doesn’t react. Sweet Pea nudges his ankle again and Fangs shifts, grumbling something unintelligible. “Wake the fuck up, Fogarty.”

“Sweet Pea?” Fangs mumbles, squinting up at him with one eye. The light streaming in through the window makes him groan and bury his face back in his arms. “ ‘m I dreamin’?” The question comes out slurred, Fangs’ voice still thick with sleep, and Sweet Pea sighs, not having the patience for this today.

“You wish.”

Fangs huffs and rolls away from him. “Ugh, go away then.” He closes his eyes and gropes around blindly until he finds his blanket, hauling it up over his head to block out the sunlight and Sweet Pea’s glare.

Sweet Pea purses his lips, unamused by Fangs’ lack of cooperation. “Get up, dumbass,” he snaps, ripping the blanket away from Fangs, who whines in protest and buries his face in his pillow. “We need to talk.” His temper rises quickly, though he doesn’t mean to yell at Fangs. It’s been a long week and he’s still rattled from last night.

Fangs tenses and glances up at him again. “Okay,” he starts slowly as he rolls onto his back and raises his hands defensively, “before you yell at me for whatever I did, I just want to say that I remember nothing, aside from making out with some blonde girl in a corner before Joaquin showed up and dragged me away.”

Sweet Pea crosses his arms. “That doesn’t surprise me.” Fangs was already half-way to being wasted by the time they were done with that game of beer pong and he tends to make shitty decisions when he’s tipsy. Sweet Pea probably should have kept a closer eye on him last night, but for the most part Fangs can take care of himself.

Clearly last night was not one of those times.

Fangs squeezes his eyes shut and rubs a tired hand across his face before raking his fingers through his hair. “What the hell did I drink?” he mutters, flopping back on his bed and squinting up at the ceiling.

“Tequila,” Sweet Pea tells him shortly, drumming his fingers against his forearm impatiently. “Apparently Toni found you matching shots with Jubilee last night. And thanks for that, by the way. She spent like twenty minutes throwing up in my bathroom this morning.”

“I do remember the shots.” Fangs groans and rubs at his eyes. “Didn’t realize it was tequila though.” He pulls a face and lets his arms flop onto the bed. Sweet Pea rolls his eyes, but decides not to comment on it. He’s tired and more than a little sexually frustrated at the moment, so he’d really appreciate it if they could skip the small talk. “How’s Jubilee holding up?”

It’s the right thing to say. Sweet Pea’s expression softens as soon as Fangs says her name. “She’s better now,” he says quietly. Sweet Pea sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “She had a panic attack last night, but she’ll be okay.”

Fangs eyes snap open at the new information, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. He looks like he wants to ask, but Sweet Pea clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into his arms, and Fangs shakes his head. “She always is.” It comes out easily, like it’s a fact, and Sweet Pea wonders if Fangs is trying to reassure him.

“What are you doing tonight?” Fangs frowns at the abrupt change in subject, but Sweet Pea only stares down at him, jaw set as he waits for a response.

Fangs shifts on his bed, sitting up slowly and sending Sweet Pea a bemused look. “I have a shift at the bar, remember?” he says slowly, significantly more awake than he was a moment ago. “I’m covering for Tom. It’s why I had Wednesday off.”

A sigh escapes Sweet Pea and he uncrosses his arms. His eyes narrow as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, tugging painfully at the roots. Fangs sits up straighter, concerned as Sweet Pea bites his lip. “What about tomorrow?” Sweet Pea asks him.

“I think I’m free. Why? What’s going on?” Fangs leans forward, bracing his elbows against his knees as a look of concern flickers across his face. The urgency in Sweet Pea’s tone makes him frown. It isn’t often that Sweet Pea is like this.

Swallowing down his hesitation, Sweet Pea decides to just bite the bullet. “You still up for modeling for me?” he asks Fangs. The series of emotions that flicker across Fangs face would be amusing if Sweet Pea wasn’t so frustrated with everything. It’s almost comical the way Fangs’ eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in surprise.

Of all the things either of them considered Sweet Pea asking, that certainly wasn’t one of them.

“What?” Fangs manages to sputter out, mouth opening and closing several times in disbelief.

Sweet Pea clenches his jaw, sighing through his nose in irritation. “Would you still be willing to model for me?” he repeats, slower this time. When Fangs expression doesn’t change he elaborates. “For my art project?” They literally talked about this yesterday. Fangs just blinks at him for a second until understanding slowly starts to kick in and Fangs seems to realize what he means through the haze of his hangover. “I know it’s short notice, but I really need to get this project done and I only have two days left.”

“Shit,” Fangs breathes back to him, shaking his head slowly. “Did Jubilee back out or something? I thought she was okay with the whole nudity thing, though I totally understand if she isn’t, because damn the first time I modeled for a class I was freaking out inside and—”

Sweet Pea is quick to cut off his rambling. “No, I just…” He rubs at his temples, cursing under his breath. His headache is starting to come back already. He should have brought the Advil with him. “I don’t think drawing her is a good idea right now,” he admits, softer than before. The words stick in his throat, barely audible, but Fangs hears him anyway.

Fangs’ frown only deepens as he stares at Sweet Pea, his hangover making it difficult to follow what his friend is saying. “What? Sweet Pea, what are you talking about?”  

“It doesn’t matter,” Sweet Pea tells him, tone harsher than he means it to be. He clenches his jaw, avoiding Fangs gaze for a moment, afraid that if he looks at his friend, Fangs will immediately know everything that happened last night. Fangs has always been scarily good at reading his expression, and that’s not really something Sweet Pea wants to get into at the moment. “I just need a model and you seemed pretty willing before. Figured you’d jump at the chance to take your pants off again.” Sweet Pea gestures to Fangs’ semi-nude state and his apparent lack of concern thereof.

But Fangs doesn’t take the bait, knowing him far better than that. His eyes narrow critically as he looks at Sweet Pea, who steadfastly ignores him while playing with one of the silver rings adorning his fingers.

“Is this because of what happened at the party?” he asks lowly, softer than before as he references Jubilee’s panic attack.

A twinge of guilt rips through Sweet Pea, just like it always does when something happens to her. It’s part of the reason, but not the whole truth, though Fangs doesn’t need to know that.

When Sweet Pea doesn’t respond, Fangs continues. “Did something else happen last night?” Sweet Pea stiffens, his gaze dropping to the floor. Fangs sits up a little straighter, his eyes widening just a fraction as a smile slowly starts to pull at his lips. “Shit, man, what did you do? Kiss Jubilee?” he asks, snickering to himself. His laughter ends abruptly when Sweet Pea doesn’t deny it. “What the  _fu_ —Sweet Pea did you  _kiss_ Jubilee?”

“No,” he answers quickly, glancing at Fangs and crossing his arms again. And then, because he figures Fangs will find out eventually anyway, he tacks on, “Jubilee kissed me.”

Fangs relaxes again at Sweet Pea’s easy response, snorting and rolling his eyes. Then, he freezes. His eyes snap back to Sweet Pea. “Wait, you’re serious?” Sweet Pea nods and Fangs looks about ready to burst with joy. “Oh my god! That’s great! It’s about damn time one of you did something about the unbearable sexual tension. Let me tell you, I was about ready to—”

“No,” Sweet Pea is quick to cut him off again, his impatience growing. “No, Fangs, that’s not great! She was drunk,” he reminds his friend sharply. “She had a panic attack. I shouldn’t have—and I can’t— _fuck_.” Sweet Pea fists at his hair painfully and turns away from Fangs, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He sighs through his nose, turning back to Fangs slowly. “It shouldn’t have happened.” He says it lowly, reminding himself. “And I can’t use her for this project, okay? Not after last night. I  _can’t_.”

The apartment is too quiet and his words hang heavy in the air between them. Fangs stares at him, mouth opening and closing like he isn’t sure what to say. Sweet Pea has always had a quick temper. It used to get him into plenty of trouble when he was younger. But the panic welling up inside him is making him more snappish than usual.

“What are you two yelling about?” Sweet Pea snaps around, tensing, but Joaquin only squints back at him, running a hand through his sleep rumpled hair and yawning. “Jesus Christ, it’s not even nine yet. Some of us are still trying to sleep, you know.” He leans against the door-frame, quirking a brow at the two of them and lifting his coffee mug to his mouth.

“Jubilee kissed Sweet Pea last night,” Fangs blurts out before Sweet Pea can stop him, having absolutely no filter, as usual.

Joaquin chokes on his coffee. “She what?”

Sweet Pea glares down at Fangs, who holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Fangs, I swear to God if you don’t learn to shut your fucking mouth—”

“Jubilee kissed you?” Joaquin sputters, cutting off Sweet Pea’s threat. He blinks at Sweet Pea blankly for a second. “What do you—why did she  _kiss_ you?”

Before Fangs can run his mouth again, Sweet Pea sends him a nasty look. “She was drunk and upset,” he explains to Joaquin who nods slowly. Toni likely told him everything that happened last night. Joaquin takes another sip of his coffee as his brows pinch together, but he waits for Sweet Pea to continue. “She passed out again afterwards.” He shrugs, making Joaquin’s frown deepen. “It’s not a big deal. It didn’t mean anything.”

Joaquin snorts loudly, rolling his eyes at Sweet Pea’s blatant lie. “Man, you are so full of shit,” he tells Sweet Pea, shaking his head. Fangs shifts on his bed, nervously glancing between his friends. Between Sweet Pea’s easily provoked temper and Joaquin’s low tolerance for bullshit, their arguments can get out of hand quickly. “How many times have you had to tell yourself that one before?”

Sweet Pea stiffens, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Piss off, Joaquin,” he snaps back, voice low and warning. His anger is already starting to rise, Sweet Pea already on edge from last night and his conversation with Jubilee this morning.

When Joaquin scoffs at him, Sweet Pea clenches his jaw and starts to leave, feeling trapped in the room.

He doesn’t make it far. Before he can leave, Joaquin slides in front of him, blocking the exit. Sweet Pea could move him easily if he wanted to. Joaquin is nearly half a foot shorter and wiry, but Sweet Pea stops anyway. “No,” Joaquin tells him firmly. He sets his mug down on Fangs’ dresser by the door before crossing his arms. “We’re gonna talk about this. You’ve been in love with Jubilee for  _years_  and you’ve never done a damn thing about it!”

Joaquin catches him off guard with the word love, and Sweet Pea’s heart stutters. His breath catches, and he immediately moves to deny it like he always does, but this time he can’t force the words out.

Fangs stands up. “Joaquin, man, maybe you shouldn’t—”

“Get out of my way,” Sweet Pea says. When Joaquin still doesn’t move, Sweet Pea shoves around him, knocking Joaquin sideways away from the door-frame before stalking out of the room and heading for the front door.

Joaquin is right on his heels. “I am so sick of watching you act like this,” he snaps at Sweet Pea. Fangs hovers just in outside of his room, watching them with wide eyes. “Four years. That’s how long I’ve been watching you throw yourself into hookup after hookup when it—”

“Fuck off!” Sweet Pea snaps at him, and Joaquin purses his lips. “I don’t do that anymore,” he reminds Joaquin firmly. He stopped taking girls home with him months ago. The hookups only made him feel worse.

Joaquin shakes his head, laughing though there’s no humor to it. “Why can’t you just admit that—”

Something inside him snaps. “You fucking know why, Joaquin!” Sweet Pea whirls on him and Joaquin flinches. His throat tightens and he chokes as his shout echoes in the apartment. Joaquin stares back at him, blue eyes wide, and Fangs stills halfway over to them.

Sweet Pea squeezes his eyes shut at the onslaught of memories that flood back to him. “I couldn’t protect her,” he chokes out, voice cracking. His fingers tremble as he turns away from them, shaking his head. “I couldn’t protect her and she deserves better than that.”

It takes only a second for understanding to flood Joaquin’s face. They’ve never talked about what happened back in Riverdale with the Ghoulies. In the six years since it happened, Sweet Pea has always refused to say a word about that night to anyone but FP. But they know how bad it was. Sweet Pea had bruises for weeks and Jubilee was never the same afterwards.

The wound left behind from that night is still raw and open, even after so many years.

“Sweet Pea,” Joaquin starts, falling silent again just as quickly, unsure what to say.

Fangs’ takes a few slow steps toward them. “That wasn’t your fault,” he says sternly, not a trace of humor left in his voice from earlier.

“It was,” Sweet Pea tells them, sighing lowly. “I’m the one that pissed them off.” The image of Jubilee on the ground, small and broken, flashes in his mind again and he feels sick thinking about it. Sweet Pea squeezes his eyes shut. He sighs, the fight draining out of him, replaced by something that leaves him feeling hollow inside, an ache settling in his chest. “She still has nightmares. She still has fucking panic attacks,” he reminds them. “You heard what happened last night. Fuck, I never should have asked her to do this in the first place.”

“So why did you?” He stills at the unexpected question, turning to find Jughead staring at him over the back of the couch, an irritated expression on his face. Sweet Pea forgot he was sleeping on the couch.

“What?”

Jughead sighs, running a hand down the side of his face and murmuring something too quiet for the rest of the to hear. He props his head up with one hand, elbow planted on the back of the couch. “Why did you ask Jubilee?” he asks again, slower this time.

“She’s one of my best friends,” Sweet Pea answers immediately, practiced after so long. He swallows down the real reason, keeping it on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t have to say it out loud. He’s always been painfully easy to read when it comes to Jubilee.

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Cut the bullshit, please. None of us have believed that since we were sixteen.” Sweet Pea’s gaze shifts to the floor, but Jughead isn’t done yet. “You love her. Congrats. Now do something about it.”

But Sweet Pea shakes his head. “I can’t lose her,” he bites out, throat raw and thick with emotion. He won’t push things. He  _can’t_. They’re on a delicate knife’s edge of coming together or falling apart and he can’t take that risk. After everything they’ve been through he can’t risk fucking that up.

Joaquin and Fangs exchange a look and Jughead stares at him blankly, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

“You’re an idiot, Sweet Pea,” he announces dryly. “You’re literally the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met.” He ignores the glare Sweet Pea sends him. “Why do you think she agreed to this?” The question makes Sweet Pea pause. “Why do you think Jubilee would agree to posing naked for one of your art assignments, knowing fully well that a room full of people is going to see it and probably recognize her from how often you two are together on campus? Why would she agree to this knowing that Fangs is going to give the two of you shit for this for the rest of your lives?” He pauses, quirking a brow, but he doesn’t give Sweet Pea a chance to speak before continuing on with his berating. “Do you think she would do this for anyone else? After what the Ghoulies did, do you really think she would do this for anyone other than you?”

Sweet Pea swallows but doesn’t respond, his chest tight all of a sudden.

Jughead stares at him for a few more seconds before huffing and flopping back down on the couch. “Now shut up so I can go back to sleep.”

* * *

 

Jubilee is reading on the couch when he comes home early in the afternoon. She glances up as he opens the door, a smile immediately pulling at her lips, and Sweet Pea just stands there for a moment, staring at her.

She’s changed since he left this morning, no longer wearing one of his borrowed flannels, instead switching it out for a pair of ripped up jeans and an off-white top that’s ridden up her stomach, revealing a teasing strip of skin. Jughead’s words keep ringing in his ears.

“Hey, Sweets,” she greets, turning back to her book a moment later. Absently, he realizes it’s the same one she was reading on Monday. She’s almost finished with it now.

“Hey, Doll,” he murmurs back, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the back of the couch. He braces his forearms against the furniture, leaning over it to look at her more closely. “You feeling better now?” The back of his hand brushes against her cheek as he moves some of her hair away from her face and Jubilee glances up at him again.

Jubilee’s lips quirk up again. “Yeah. The girls stopped over and Toni made some disgusting hangover cure and I feel fine now.” He snorts but relaxes slightly, glad she wasn’t alone all day while he was gone. “How was your thing?” There’s something off about her tone, but he can’t place what.

Sweet Pea hesitates, withdrawing his hand. “Okay. I got some things figured out.”

After his conversation with the guys he needed some time to think. He didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but he got lost in his own thoughts walking around the city. It gave him time to clear his head and figure out what he needs to do.

“That’s good. You seemed a little stressed out this morning.” Jubilee closes her book, setting it aside as she sits up and stretches out her limbs. Sweet Pea lets his eyes linger on her for just a moment longer than necessary. “By the way, there’s pizza on the counter. I didn’t know when you’d be home, but figured you’d be hungry.” She doesn’t elaborate, but he hears the implication anyway.

“Pepperoni?”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”

Sweet Pea reaches down and ruffles her hair affectionately before heading for the kitchen.

“Do you work tonight?” Jubilee calls after him as he pulls a slice from the box on the counter. He quirks a brow, glancing back at her and taking a bite. Jubilee crosses her legs on the couch, staring at him expectantly, and Sweet Pea swallows.

“No, I have the night off.” He leans back against the counter, watching in confusion as she nods and stands from the couch.

She runs her fingers through her hair. “Well, that’s perfect then.”

Frown deepening, he cocks his head to the side, unsure what she’s getting at. “Perfect for what?”

Jubilee sends him a funny look. “Your project? Sweet Pea it’s due Monday and we both know you’ll be a grumpy asshole if you wait until tomorrow to start it.” She props one hand up on her hip and purses her lips, caught somewhere between annoyed and confused.

He nearly chokes at the mention of his project. Sweet Pea swallows down his mouthful, eyes wide as he stares at her. “You still want to model for me?” It’s not what he was expecting.

She frowns. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought—” He cuts off, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” A part of him thought after last night and her panic attack she wouldn’t want anything to do with stripping down for an unspecified amount of time while he drew her. Sweet Pea’s also not entirely sure he’ll be able to do this without making an absolute fool of himself. Last night he fucked up. And this morning he panicked and bolted. He’s already at two strikes in less than a day and things could get a lot worse from here if he’s not careful.

Jubilee doesn’t seem to notice his slight hesitation. “Well then, lets go. You’re losing daylight.”

The pizza slice almost slips from his hand. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now.” She sends him a critical look as she picks up her book and walks over to him. Jubilee stops when she’s right in front of him, her head craned back to look at him. “Unless there’s something wrong with that?” she teases.

Sweet Pea shakes his head, placing his slice of pizza down on top of the box. “No. Now is good. It’s great.” She’s so close that it wouldn’t take much to grab her and kiss her again like he did last night, but Sweet Pea doesn’t move, holding her gaze as he’s caught between her and the kitchen counter.

“Good.”

He wets his lips and Jubilee’s gaze shifts from his for just a second, dipping lower. He clears his throat. “I’ll get my sketchbook then.”

She nods, but doesn’t step away from him. “You do that.”

Sweet Pea doesn’t move for several seconds, keeping his gaze locked on hers. Eventually, he forces himself to move and slides away from her. A pleasant shiver shoots up his spine when her arm brushes against his, but he shakes it off.

He walks over to the corner, gathering up the over-sized sketchbook and the wooden easel automatically. He props it up in the living area, grabs a stool from the counter and brings that into the living room as well. It takes him longer to find his good pencils and the eraser that doesn’t leave smudges everywhere.

It doesn’t really hit him what’s happening until he sits down and opens to a fresh page.

He’s about to draw Jubilee while she’s naked.

Sweet Pea tenses as he realizes what’s happening. It all happened to quickly for him to really process it, but he’s really about to draw Jubilee while she’s naked. He glances up at where she’s sitting on the couch, staring at him expectantly.

“Ready?” she asks, not waiting for a response as she stands up.

“I’m not the one that has to take my clothes off,” he murmurs back, lips quirking up when she giggles lightly. He sobers again pretty quickly. “Jubilee.” She glances up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

She doesn’t respond to him right away, just looks at him, and Sweet Pea can’t tell what’s going on in her head. Finally, she rolls her eyes. “You better not be a silent artist,” she says instead of answering the question, and he figures that’s about all he’s going to get.

His lips twitch in amusement. “I’ll try not to be.”

She nods and that’s it.

Sweet Pea shifts slightly as he stares at Jubilee over his sketchbook, watching as she yanks her shirt off over her head with ease. The fabric drops to the floor at her feet and his throat bobs with a harsh swallow as her hands drop to the button on her jeans. She wriggles out of them slowly, letting them fall to the floor like her top, leaving her in a lacy, black and white bra with matching panties that makes his mouth go dry.

His eyes flick between her face and torso, lingering on her chest and the smooth expanse of her stomach. Absentmindedly, he wonders how she might taste beneath him, how soft her skin would be under his hands and lips and tongue and—

The pencil nearly slips out of his hand as he rips his eyes away from her bare skin.

Jubilee’s eyes lock with his as she reaches behind herself, fingers finding the clasp of her bra with ease. He tries not to look at her naked chest as she slides the straps down her arms slowly before letting the lacy thing tumble to the floor. “Where do you want me, Sweets?” she asks as her thumbs hook around the sides of her underwear and pull down.

_Fuck me_ , is the only thing that comes to mind.


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly filthy smut. There's a brief epilogue that just didn't fit with this chapter that'll be coming tomorrow! Thank you all for reading!

The first two hours go surprisingly well.

Sweet Pea isn’t entirely sure what he was expecting. Hormones. A raging hard-on. The two of them being too awkward for this to work at all and him being too distracted by her sudden nudity to do anything but stare. But it’s not nearly as awkward as it should be, and that might be the bigger problem.

At first, he tried to keep his eyes off her as much as possible once his brain caught up with the fact that Jubilee was naked and waiting for his instructions, a task made even more difficult thanks to his conversation with the guys earlier this morning. He’s long come to terms with his feelings, and their kiss last night is still fresh in his mind, but now isn’t the time to drag up buried feelings and drunken kisses.

He just hopes he can get through this without saying or doing anything stupid.

Working with Jubilee is easier than he thought it would be—easier than it  _should_  be. They’ve always been a good team, no matter what they were doing, and so far nude modeling is no exception to that. The first few minutes involved some awkward floundering as she moved into a position that worked for him but wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her to hold for an hour or two, with Sweet Pea trying not to stare at her chest as she shifted around on the couch across from him.

If he didn’t know better, he would think she was doing it on purpose just to fuck with him.

His brain practically short-circuited when she asked how he wanted to do this— _“Where_   _do you want me, Sweets?”_ —and it’s a little embarrassing how long it took for him to respond. He’s just lucky he didn’t stutter when he told her to get on the couch. And he’s even luckier that he managed to swallow back a groan when she did exactly what he asked, her eyes never once leaving his.

Sweet Pea might be wrong about saying there was nothing sexy about figure drawing. There was definitely some subtle, uncomfortable shifting in those first few minutes from his end. It’s a miracle that Sweet Pea managed to keep his more inappropriate thoughts locked away as he started the sketch. It certainly wasn’t easy though. Between the way Jubilee kept looking at him and the utterly shameless way she stripped down for him, he’s lucky that uncomfortable shifting was the worst of it.

Though, that might say more about Jubilee than it does figure drawing.

They settled on a classic  _Titanic_  style pose. Simple and easy. Not original, but it meets the task at hand. Jubilee stretched across the couch with her left arm draped over her head on the armrest and her right hand nestled next to her cheek, her fingers curled slightly. Fangs will probably give him hell for it later when he inevitably finds out, but Sweet Pea couldn’t help but notice how much softer she looked like that.

Sweet Pea kept to his promise of not being a silent artist and the conversation has been steady since he started working. It’s always easy with Jubilee. Sometimes more than it should be. After a while, they both settled into their spots and he was sucked into the drawing, letting the motions take over.

Despite her taking the initiative earlier, it took Jubilee a little longer to relax. She was stiff at the start, unsure where to put her arms, but seemed to shake it off once he started talking to her.

Soon, it starts to feel like any other Saturday afternoon. Sweet Pea works on his project. Jubilee curls up on his couch and enjoys the quiet and lack of roommates. He’s almost able to forget that she’s naked. Almost, but not quite.

It’s a little difficult to forget that important detail when he starts to work lower on the drawing and the little details of her skin start to appear on the paper in front of him. Jubilee’s clothes are still scattered across his floor and he keeps getting distracted every time she shifts and her dark hair tickles at her skin.

He’s torn between his professionalism and his feelings for Jubilee and one of them is going to give before the night is over.

“—and that’s why Fangs and I almost got arrested in Cancun,” he finishes, pausing in his drawing when her shoulders shake with laughter. Despite his and Fangs promise to never discuss the details of that night, she finally managed to weasel it out of him. Fangs won’t be happy about it, but the fond amusement swirling in Jubilee’s eyes is worth it.

“I can’t believe you two.” Jubilee shakes her head and snorts, but falls still again a moment later.

Sweet Pea finishes the detail of the thin, nearly invisible scar on her hairline before he glances at her over the top of his sketchbook. “What was I supposed to do?” he asks her, grinning when her lips twitch upwards. “The guy attacked me!”

Jubilee scoffs at him as her head tilts towards the hand lying on the pillow beside her face. “He threw a piñata,” she corrects him simply, still trying to wrap her head around the nonsense story.

“Same thing.”

“So you pulled out a samurai sword? Where did you even find one of those?”

Sweet Pea’s gaze flicks up to meet hers before he traces the curve of her neck with his eyes, adding definition to the rough sketch in front of him. “I thought it was fake,” he reminds her.

Her collarbones take shape on the paper and for a moment he allows his eyes to wander down to the tattoo on her ribcage, nestled just behind her breast. It’s just a splash of blue and lavender against her skin and he’d think it was a bruise if he didn’t know better.

He rips his eyes away from the tattoo when she says, “I can’t leave you two anywhere, can I?” Sweet Pea’s eyes slide back to hers and his heart swells when he sees the familiar, fond look in her eyes.

Sweet Pea turns back to his sketchbook just as quickly. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “You know us,” he jokes, “always getting in trouble.” Jubilee hums her agreement and he can’t help glancing at her again. “And you could have come with us.”

“And be a fugitive in a foreign country?” Jubilee asks him teasingly. “I’ll pass.” She grins at him and he shakes his head.

They lapse into comfortable silence for a minute as Sweet Pea tries to get the tiny details of the spatter of freckles beneath her collarbone just right.

Sweet Pea’s eyes immediately find Jubilee’s when he looks up again and for a moment he lets himself drown in them. His hand falters for a second, his pencil hovering just above the half-finished drawing. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat, “what are your plans after this?”

Jubilee’s eyes narrow just a tick and she purses her lips. “Tonight?” she asks him slowly, hesitating for a moment. “Or…”

He nearly swears when he catches the implication. “Graduation,” he corrects quickly, avoiding her gaze as his face heats up. “It’s coming up quick. You haven’t said anything about it.”

“Good question.” Jubilee wiggles her fingers idly before taking her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on it. Sweet Pea stares as she rolls it between her teeth, his mouth suddenly dry. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“What?” he jokes, shaking away the thought of taking her lip between his own teeth and making her moan, “no big plans with your literature degree?” He quirks a brow at her and Jubilee rolls her eyes.

“Shut up. You sound like my dad.” Sweet Pea chuckles and Jubilee sighs as she relaxes back against the couch. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

A smile tugs at his mouth. “I know you will.”

“And what about you?” she asks. “Any big plans after this, or are you going the starving artist route?”

He rolls his eyes, but grins at her teasing. Art as a career might not be the most stable thing, but Sweet Pea knows his friends and the other Serpents will support him no matter what he chooses to do. They got him this far after all. He just doesn’t want to let them all down like he did before.

Sweet Pea’s smile fades as his thoughts drift to the Serpents and his last conversation with FP over winter break. “Your dad offered me a job actually.” Jubilee’s brows knit together in confusion. “Hog Eye’s looking to retire. They need someone to run the Wyrm when he does.”

“What about your art?”

“There’ll be time for that when I’m not working the bar.” It rings hollow even to him and Jubilee’s frown deepens.

“I thought you didn’t want to bar-tend anymore,” she murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

He shrugs. “It pays the bills. It’s stable. And I’m good at it.” Jubilee hums her agreement but doesn’t say anything. Sweet Pea’s hand stills and he stares at the half-finished sketch in front of him, tracing the fine lines with his eyes. “So I’m thinking about asking Micah for an apprenticeship once we go back to Riverdale.”

Jubilee is quiet for a moment. “Tattoos? Now that I can see.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re good with your hands,” she tells him. Sweet Pea snorts, shaking his head, and she laughs. “So why haven’t you asked him yet?”

“Not sure if it’s right, you know? Tattooing, it’s…” he trails off, unable to find the right word. “Delicate,” he decides on as he meets Jubilee’s eyes. “It’s easy to fuck it up.”

As usual, Jubilee sees right through him. “It makes you nervous.” She doesn’t move from her pose save for the slight downward curl of her lips, but that’s all he needs to know exactly what she’s thinking.

He laughs, ignoring the heavy look in her eyes. “Something like that.” Sweet Pea starts detailing her hair, falling in messy waves around her face, taking care to capture each strand as it falls around her.

They lapse into silence again as he gets sucked into the sketch, each stroke of his pencil more delicate than the last. Eventually, Jubilee asks, “so how many times have you done this?”

“Nude drawings?” Her head gives the slightest of nods and he hesitates before drawing the wayward strands of hair tickling the side of her neck. The small, red marks that he left last night have long since disappeared, but he can still taste her on his lips and hear her little gasps in his ears. Sweet Pea grits his teeth, shifting on the stool uncomfortably. “A couple times,” he answers vaguely, forcing his eyes not to wander further down her neck and trying to keep his thoughts from straying somewhere they shouldn’t. “I took that class on it before, but we only had one drawing session per week. Fangs and Archie ended up modeling for the class and I very seriously considered dropping both of my majors.” Sweet Pea glances at her, catching the slight quirk of her lips. “If I ever have to see Archie’s abs again, I think I might rip my eyes out.”

She giggles. “And do you like it? Figure drawing?”

“It’s okay,” he tells her.

It’s not a real answer. Not really, anyway, but it’s as close as he can get to one. Because he likes the intimacy of it, how different it feels from any other form of art he’s tried, but he’s not sure if he actually likes drawing people he barely knows when they’re naked. He can appreciate the form, but it’s the vulnerability that really gets to him, and he’s never been sure if he likes being that open and honest with his work.

Jubilee makes it different though. The amount of trust she has in him has always surprised him. Even after he let her down when they were younger, she’s always trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, to let him protect her. And she makes him vulnerable too.

“Jubilee.” He doesn’t look at her as he speaks, gaze locked on the delicate curve of her neck etched into his sketchbook. “Thanks for doing this. You’re a good friend.” He doesn’t catch the way she stiffens as he talks, or the way her breathing hitches. “You know,” he chuckles, not thinking as the words tumble out of his mouth, “I’m really glad Fangs said no when I went to ask him to model for me this morning. You’re a hell of a lot prettier than him.”

The grin on his face disappears as soon as he glances up at her. Jubilee has gone still, her entire body tense. The small smile that’s been tugging at her lips since they started is gone, but that’s not what makes him freeze. It’s the raw, open hurt that flickers in her eyes for a just a second.

“So that’s why you practically ran out of here this morning.” A breathless, bitter laugh escapes Jubilee. “You were asking Fangs to—” She shakes her head before breaking her position and sitting up. “God, I’m an idiot.” She doesn’t look at him as she stands from the couch. “Shit.”

Sweet Pea watches in confusion as she scoops up her clothes off the floor. He sets his pencil down and stands from the stool slowly. “Jubilee, what do you—”

“You know what?” she cuts him off, still not looking at him as she shimmies her panties up over her hips, shying away from him. “I’m done.  _I’m done_. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.” Jubilee laughs again and this time it’s watery, the sound sticking in her throat. She yanks his flannel over her head, leaving it half-unbuttoned and grabbing for her discarded jeans. “I’ve been throwing myself at you all fucking week, Sweet Pea, and clearly you aren’t interested, so I think I need to leave.” She buttons her jeans, leaving her shirt on the couch with her bra and scooping up her things. “Sorry about your project, but apparently you already asked Fangs to be your back up, so you’ll be fine.”

The amount of venom in her words makes him flinch, and he can only stand there dumbfounded as she grabs her phone off the coffee table. “You’ve what?” he finally manages to ask once the words register. She’s been  _throwing herself_  at him? “Jubilee,  _wait_!”

She ignores his question, but turns around to look at him as he steps around the easel towards her. That raw hurt stops him again and he can’t breathe. For a second she doesn’t say anything, just stares at him in utter defeat.

“You know, when you asked me to do this I thought maybe you finally figured it out,” she says, barely above a whisper. A sound caught halfway between a sigh and a laugh slips from her and she shakes her head. “Maybe you wanted me just as bad as I want you, because why else do you ask one of your best friends to strip down for a nude portrait? But then you make out with some random girl at a party and I  _kiss you_  and you practically run out of here the next morning.”

It hits him in the stomach, the realization that she remembers last night—that she  _meant_  to kiss him.

Jubilee waits for him to say something, anything, but Sweet Pea only stares at her, unable to move as he tries to wrap his head around all of it. It takes him a second too long to realize he’s fucked up and by then Jubilee is already turning away from him again.

“Lydia was right,” she murmurs, so low he almost doesn’t hear, “this was a mistake.”

She grabs her book off the coffee table.

He reaches for her instinctively, his fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her from storming off. “Jubilee—”

“Don’t!” she snaps as the book falls to the floor. His hand drops immediately. An apology flickers in her glossy eyes and his heart squeezes in his chest. “Sweet Pea, just don’t,” she repeats, softer this time. “It’s fine, I get it. It’s not… I’m not mad, I just can’t be here right now, okay?” Jubilee tries to smile for him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

She leaves the book on the floor and turns away from him.

Sweet Pea stares after her, unable to move as Jubilee shoves her phone into her pocket and heads towards the door.

She’s been throwing herself at him? Blood roars in his ears and his mouth moves but no sound escapes him. It hits him again that everything she did last night was on purpose. Asking him to zip up her dress. Kissing him like that. What else has he missed this week? Or even before that? How did he not notice it?

Or maybe he did notice and chose to ignore it.

“You’re wrong,” he calls after her, desperation seizing him as she grabs her bag and shoes off the floor and reaches for the front door. Jubilee hesitates, her hand hovering over the knob. Sweet Pea takes a step after her, his throat tight. “About me not being interested.”

Jubilee’s head snaps around. Her hand slowly drops back to her side as she looks at Sweet Pea, expression guarded and her brows narrowed in confusion. Jubilee’s lips part, but she doesn’t say anything as he takes another step towards her. She turns to face him hesitantly, and he stops in the middle of the living room, his stomach flipping sickly as she stares at him with wide eyes.

The shoes slip from Jubilee’s hands and fall with a clatter onto the floor, loud in the suddenly quiet room. She wets her lips, eyes leaving his for a second before snapping back to him. Her mouth moves wordlessly. “You never said anything,” she finally chokes out, letting her bag fall to the floor.

A breathy laugh escapes him. “Neither did you,” Sweet Pea jokes, the ache in his chest lessening when she steps away from the door. Jubilee crosses the small space between them until there’s hardly any left and his fingers twitch with the need to touch her.

She stops just in front of him, looking small and vulnerable in the flannel that practically swallows her whole. She has to crane her head back to meet his eyes, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. “Sweets,” Jubilee whispers.

“Fuck, Jubilee,” he takes a shuddery breath, “if I’d known you—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Jubilee surges up onto her toes and fists a hand in his shirt. She drags him down to her, cutting him off with a rough, messy kiss that he melts into easily. Sweet Pea’s hands settle onto her hips instinctively, one palm sliding around to her back and holding her loosely against his chest. His heart thumps erratically and he’s lost in the feel of her pressed loosely again his chest and the light scent of her perfume. The kiss becomes slow and coaxing, so much like the one from last night, and Sweet Pea sinks into it as her hands slide up his chest, her fingers tickling the sides of his neck as he sighs.

Jubilee pulls away from him slowly, lingering there as she drops back to her feet.

Sweet Pea’s palm presses firmly against her lower back and Jubilee shivers as the heat of his hand sinks into her skin through her haphazardly buttoned shirt. An absentminded finger traces the curved lines inked into the side of his neck and Sweet Pea shivers as he leans into Jubilee. Her breath fans across his lips and he drags his hand up her back, the tips of his fingers tracing the length of her spine.

“Why did you ask me to do this?” Jubilee asks him after a tense minute, her eyes searching his desperately for some answer. Gently, she cups his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking back and forth across his cheeks. Her exhales are shaky against him and she’s so close that Sweet Pea can hear the hitch in her breathing when he cradles the back of her neck with one hand. “Sweets?”

He opens his mouth to answer her, but no words leave him. He already knows why he asked her earlier this week. She was the first person he thought about when Kandinsky told them about the assignment. Jubilee’s always been beautiful, he’d be a fool not to notice that; but that’s not the reason he asked.

She means everything to him.

Instead of responding, Sweet Pea dips his chin and catches her in another slow, sweet kiss. His fingers wind through her dark hair as Jubilee tilts her head back and arches into his chest until there’s no space left between them. Her arms wind around the back of his neck tightly, dragging him down close, and a groan rumbles in his throat as her lips suddenly move against his in a way that’s almost bruising.

Sweet Pea kisses her back just as frantically, just like he did last night, only it’s different now. They’re both sober and he wants her just as badly as he has since they were in high school. And she doesn’t stop him.

Jubilee leaves fire in her wake as her fingers fist at his hair. She relaxes into his touch as his grip tightens around her hip. And Sweet Pea drinks in the taste of her, sweet and thick on his tongue, like honey and raspberries. Her perfume tickles at his senses in a hazy cloud and when her nails drag down the sides of his neck he shivers against her. Heat curls in his gut.

It’s sweet, but it’s not what either of them want.

A keening gasp escapes Jubilee as his tongue traces the seam of her lips. She surges up onto her toes again to kiss him harder, and Sweet Pea moans as she pulls his hair roughly. Jubilee nips at him, catching his lower lip between her teeth and biting down before releasing him again.

Jubilee shoves him. A grunt tears from his chest as he stumbles back against the couch, his knee knocking against the arm. But Jubilee doesn’t disappear for long. Her mouth is back on his again a moment later and she urges him down against the cushions. As soon as he drops back she crawls on top of him and straddles his lap.

Sweet Pea grins against her as she settles on top of him, her hands on his shoulders to hold her steady as her balance shifts. His hands drop down to her hips, squeezing roughly before snaking higher on her torso to trace the soft strip of skin that was peeking out beneath her shirt earlier. She sighs in response to his touch and idly he wonders if she would make the same noise if it was his mouth on her.

His moan rumbles against her lips as her hips roll against his. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Sweet Pea mumbles, pulling back just enough to look at her. Jubilee’s fingers bite into his shoulders as his big hands grasp her hips again, squeezing roughly as he grinds her down against his hardening cock again. He swallows her gasp and bites her lip. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jubilee murmurs. Her lips drag across his cheek to his jaw, where she starts peppering feverish kisses.

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty in the quiet room. Instead of answering, he grabs her chin, bringing her mouth back to his for another rough kiss. Jubilee melts into him, her arms wrapping loosely around the back of his neck. Every inch of her is pressed up against his torso, and he could stay like that forever if it was what she wanted. But her head tilts for a better angle and her fingers run through his hair as her hips roll against his in a steady rhythm.

Sweet Pea’s mouth tears away from hers with a lewd, wet sound, but he doesn’t stray from her for long. His lips meet her skin once more, hot wet kisses trailing over her jaw and down her neck without warning. Jubilee gasps as his lips wander across her soft skin, following the same path as last night. She squirms against him as he roughly bites and sucks at her pulse point, his lips lazily trailing down the column of her throat as he noses at her. His teeth gently scrape down her neck and her thighs lock around his hips.

“Oh,  _fuck_.” Jubilee gasps as he peruses her neck. She tilts her head up to give him better access. “Sweet Pea,” she pants against his ear, her fingers twitching against the back of his neck. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw, and her hips rock against his, desperate for some kind of friction as an ache builds in her stomach.

The sound of his name on her lips and the whimpers slipping from her mouth makes something hot flood through his veins. When she chokes out his name again, Sweet Pea bites down on her neck roughly. She yelps, but the stuttering sound becomes a breathy moan as he soothes the spot with a slow lick. Sweet Pea blows against her wet skin and she shivers, hips stuttering against his.

Swearing, Sweet Pea’s mouth latches onto her again. He pays particular attention to that sensitive spot on her neck, drawing her blood to the surface. Jubilee lets him work a bruise onto her skin and squirms when his mouth moves lower, peppering smaller hickeys down the length of her neck down to her collarbones and the exposed swell of her breast.

Jubilee brings his lips back to hers before he can linger on her chest and Sweet Pea shifts uncomfortably beneath her, painfully hard in his jeans as her core continues to grind against his. Her hips circle against his slowly and her hands cradle his jaw as she kisses him deeply. Sweet Pea’s hands slide up her back and he wraps one arm firmly around her back as his right hand finds the back of her neck again, holding her head loosely in place.

The urgency slowly drains from them, and Sweet Pea lets her rock above him lazily, content with whatever she’s willing to give him.

Her hands drift from his face down to his shoulders and his chest, and Jubilee sighs as her hands slip beneath the open fabric of his flannel. She begins to shove his shirt aside and Sweet Pea reluctantly breaks his hold on her as the flannel catches on his elbows. He shrugs out of it and throws the flannel aside.

Jubilee’s hands slide down his arms appreciatively and he grins against her mouth.

“Please,” she murmurs, muffled by a needy kiss.

Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck and his free hand slips beneath her shirt, teasing the skin just above her jeans. “What do you want, Doll?” He doesn’t want to push her.

Jubilee quells his hesitation with a series of slow kisses. “ _You_ ,” she breathes between brushes of their lips.

The easy answer makes his heart squeeze in his chest. A surge of affection and lust rips through him. “Shit.” His hands latch onto her hips as he jerks beneath her. “I don’t have a condom,” he mumbles, swearing when she rolls against him. He didn’t think he’d be needing one anytime soon.

A breathy laugh slips from her. “Back pocket,” she tells him before kissing him again.

Sweet Pea’s brows knit together in confusion before his hands slide down, groping at her ass and grinding her down against him. She moans into his mouth as his fingers dip into the back pocket of her jeans and squeeze. The foil package crinkles beneath his fingers and he pulls away from her to chuckle. “Did you plan on seducing me, Jubilee?”

Her hips jerk against his when he pinches her ass and fishes the condom out of her pocket, slipping it into his own. “I’ve been trying to all week, thanks for noticing.”

Shaking his head, Sweet Pea’s hands slide around to the front of her jeans. He pops the button on them and Jubilee’s breath catches. “Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs, “do you know how hard it was not to pin you to the couch and make you beg for it?” Jubilee squirms over his lap and wriggles out of her pants, kicking them to the floor.

She whimpers when his hands squeeze her ass again, his touch hotter without the extra layer of clothing between them. Jubilee wets her lips. “I think I have an idea.”

Her fingers ghost over his hips before grasping his arousal through his jeans and palming him roughly. Sweet Pea groans and his head drops against the back of the couch. Jubilee takes the opportunity to latch her mouth onto his exposed throat, nipping and sucking at his skin like he did to her, leaving faint marks in her wake. His breathing becomes ragged as he presses into her hand.

Jubilee presses butterfly kisses over his pounding pulse as she pops the button on his jeans and works her hand beneath his pants and underwear. Her soft fingers wrap around his cock and Sweet Pea grunts. “Shit, Sweets,” she murmurs against his neck, tracing the length of him with her hand. His eyes slip shut as she strokes him slowly, fingers squeezing around him until his hips stutter beneath her.

“ _Fuck_. Jubilee,” he chokes out, hissing through his teeth when her thumb circles the head of his cock. Her lips move up to jaw and chin until she reaches the corner of his mouth, where she presses a surprisingly sweet kiss.

Sweet Pea reluctantly pulls her hand out of his pants and ignores the questioning look she sends him. She opens her mouth, but whatever she was planning to say is cut off by her gasp when his hands grab her ass. Sweet Pea stands suddenly, surprising her, and he chuckles when Jubilee clings to his shoulders. Her long legs wrap around his waist as he shifts his grip on her and pushes away from the couch.

Her mouth covers his again and he stumbles blindly around the furniture in the room until he finds the nearest surface.

Jubilee yelps as he shoves her back against the closest wall, his mouth immediately swallowing her appreciative moan as her legs squeeze around his hips. She hits the wall with a bang that he hopes his neighbors don’t hear, but Jubilee doesn’t seem to care as she coils around him. His grip on her thighs is bruising, but she only keens at the rough treatment, arching into his chest as her fingers tangle in his hair, her lips moving against his.

Her legs squeeze around his hips as he settles against her, mouth meeting hers in a fiery kiss. He forces her head back against the wall, enjoying the way she squirms against him, fingers pulling at him tighter as she rolls her hips against his again, no space left between them. Her thighs quake around him when he grinds against her, a soft, fluttery sigh leaving Jubilee. The breathy sound makes him shiver, his fingers sliding high on her legs until he’s flirting with the hem of her underwear. The lace tickles at his skin and she squirms as his fingers dip beneath the fabric teasingly.

Jubilee’s fingers ghost down the sides of his neck, the teasing touch making Sweet Pea’s hips snap against hers. She pulls back to murmur his name against his lips, and Sweet Pea’s heart seizes. Warmth blooms in his chest as she traces the shape of his jaw with a delicate finger.

For a minute they stay like that: Jubilee pinned between him and the wall, her touch soft and sweet as the tips of her fingers draw shapes down the sides of his neck, their lips brushing and their exhales mingling because they’re so close.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs absentmindedly. Jubilee’s breathing hitches and her eyes widen a fraction, her pupils blown wide with arousal. This time, Sweet Pea is the one to close the small distance between them, and when Jubilee sighs he relaxes into her. His thumb strokes her skin, sweeping back and forth across her thigh lazily.

Her hands slide into his hair and Sweep Pea pushes away from the wall. Jubilee’s legs tighten around his waist when she becomes airborne, but he keeps his hands firmly on her thighs to make sure she doesn’t slip. He feels his way through the apartment carefully, so wrapped up in Jubilee that he’s hardly paying attention. It’s easier than it was last night, with the sun still shining in through the open curtains, the sun only just beginning to set.

Sweet Pea drops her down carefully onto the end of his bed, hovering over her for a second and kisses her once more before pulling away just long enough to tear his undershirt over his head and toss it on the floor. Jubilee’s gaze rakes over his bare chest appreciatively and Sweet Pea can’t help the grin that pulls at his mouth, his dark eyes glimmering in amusement.

“Like what you see, Doll?” he jokes, standing in front of her with kiss swollen lips and messy hair from her fingers pulling at him. Faint hickeys are peppered across his neck and his jeans are slung low on his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped.

Jubilee is equally rumpled, wearing nothing but those white, lacy panties and the green flannel she was wearing this morning. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath and deep red and purple love bites are scattered from the underside of her jaw down to her collarbone. Her flannel is half-hanging from her shoulder and revealing the enticing curve of her breast. He tried not to stare at her before, but now he can barely tear his eyes away.

Jubilee isn’t as patient. She huffs, reaching out for him with both hands. “Get over here.” He chuckles as she wiggles her fingers expectantly, but does as she asks. Sweet Pea lets her drag him down to the bed and she giggles as he crawls on top of her. Jubilee tries to wrap her arms around his neck but he gathers both of her hands in his before she can, pinning them to the mattress on either side of her head.

He kisses her again before she can complain and links their fingers together gently. She squeezes their interlinked hands before slipping her fingers away from his. Her palms press flat against his back, dragging across his skin slowly and making them both sigh.

Sweet Pea braces one arm against the bed, keeping his weight off her as he slips one hand between her legs. Jubilee gasps into his mouth when his fingers drag along the inside of her thigh. Goosebumps rise on her skin as his fingers trail higher, Sweet Pea testing the waters.

He releases her mouth, kissing her cheek briefly before his mouth moves lower. Jubilee arches into him, pressing her hips closer to his hand encouragingly. Two of his fingers drag along the front of her damp underwear and her hips jump as his fingers brush against her clit through the thin fabric.

“Sweets,” she gasps against his ear, opening her legs wider as his fingers continue to tease her. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as his mouth moves down her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. Her nails drag down his back suddenly and he grunts into the side of her neck. Sweet Pea dips a finger beneath the strip of fabric separating their skin and she gasps. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. “ _Please_.”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs back to her, breath fanning across the hollow of her throat. He’s still painfully hard against her thigh, but he ignores it, taking a slow breath. Sweet Pea removes his fingers from beneath her panties and rises on his elbows enough to look her in the eyes. He needs to be sure this is what she wants, that everything isn’t happening too fast. “Jubilee, if you don’t want—”

“I want you, Sweet Pea,” she says, cutting him off gently. Her hands leave his back to grasp his face, and Jubilee brings him up to meet her in a slow, reassuring kiss.

Sweet Pea sinks into the kiss for a long moment before finally pulling back. He returns to her collarbone, working another hickey onto her skin as he slips his hand back between them, this time finding the buttons on her flannel. He pops each one open slowly, perusing each new inch of skin revealed to his greedy mouth. Jubilee’s chest heaves beneath him and a stuttering gasp slips from her mouth as his fingers find the last button.

He sits up again to look at her and Jubilee shrugs the shirt aside. The dark green fabric slips from her arms slowly and for a second he can’t breathe. Despite the fact that she stripped in front of him and he spent over two hours working on a nude sketch of her, it hits him in this moment how much she trusts him.

Jubilee watches him as his eyes drag down her frame like a physical touch, taking in every inch of her skin in a way he didn’t before. There’s a splash of color on her ribcage that catches his attention, just behind her left breast, almost on her back. His heart aches when he sees the small, delicate petals of a flower he recognizes. The blue and purple watercolor tattoo is still as beautiful as the first time he saw it.

“I remember when you got this.” His fingers trace the shape of the tattoo and she shivers beneath him.

Jubilee relaxes beneath him. “The day before we left Riverdale.” A heavy sigh escapes her, and Jubilee’s ribcage moves beneath his hand. He strokes his thumb across the tattoo one more time before sliding his hand higher to cup her breast. She inhales sharply, arching into him when his thumb brushes against her nipple. “Micah did a good job.”

Humming in agreement, Sweet Pea leans down to press his lips back to her collarbone. He works his way lower, lips wandering down her chest lazily. She’s vocal but quiet as his tongue and teeth graze her skin, little gasps and coos slipping from her mouth.

He grins against her when she hooks a leg over his hip, trying to pull him down to her. A frustrated sigh escapes her when he doesn’t budge, content to peruse her chest and drag more soft sounds from her. He could get high off the sounds she makes.

“Sweets,” she huffs, leg squeezing around him as he kisses across her left breast. Her fingers thread through his hair as his teeth graze her skin again, and she squirms when he nips at her, leaving a trail of faint red marks across her skin. As she presses her heel into his back, Sweet Pea’s hand slides down her side and back between her legs. His tongue swirls around her nipple and her gasps rise in pitch as he takes it into his mouth.

Sweet Pea rolls her nipple between his teeth as his fingers slip back beneath her underwear. His digits trace her opening and he groans when he feels just how wet she already is. Jubilee keens, hips rocking up against his hand as his thumb bushes against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses against his ear. “Please.”

“I know,” he murmurs against her breast, the vibration from his mouth making her leg squeeze around him tighter. “Shit, Doll, you’re so wet.” Sweet Pea groans against her as two of his fingers sink into her easily, long and thick. Her head drops back against the mattress and her eyes squeeze shut as his digits drag roughly along her walls.

She arches into his mouth and hands. “Fuck, Sweet Pea.” He groans against her breast, curling his fingers and searching for the spot inside her that’ll make her gasp. Her walls cling to his retreating fingers, sucking him in deeper as his thumb rubs slow, teasing circles against her clit. Sweet Pea moves his attention to one of the hickeys on her breast, deepening the bruise.

Slowly, he works his way down her stomach, kissing a path down her quivering stomach. His nose brushes against her teasingly, and she squeals when his tongue dips into her bellybutton. Jubilee shoves his shoulder and he chuckles. His hands are hot against her skin as he gripes one of her thighs, holding her in place as he his fingers continue to thrust into her slowly. The soft sounds and sighs of his name slipping from her kiss-swollen lips make his heart swell with pure joy.

Jubilee inhales sharply when he slides off the end of the bed and drops to his knees, draping her knee over his shoulder. She sits up on her elbows and he locks eyes with her as he turns to press an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of her thigh. The shaky sigh that slips from her only encourages him. Sweet Pea pulls his fingers from her core and Jubilee whines at the loss of his touch. His fingers hook around the hem of her panties. Sweet Pea holds her gaze as he tugs them down her hips, Jubilee shifting to help him kick the scrap of fabric aside. Her bare leg dangles down his back and she presses her heel into his back to draw him closer.

Sweet Pea kisses across the inside of her thigh, working his way to her center as his fingers creep back to her opening.

Jubilee shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “Really? You’d rather eat me out than fuck me senseless?” His fingers slip back inside her and the heat of his breath makes her toes curl against his back. Sweet Pea keeps a firm grip on her thigh and holds her gaze as his tongue flicks out against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses. Her hips jerk, but he holds her firmly against the mattress.

“I can do both,” he reminds her before leaning back in and covering her clit with his mouth. She practically sobs as he starts to suck on the bundle of nerves, dragging her right up to the edge. The extended foreplay has left them both achingly sensitive and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get her off at least twice tonight. “You gonna cum for me, Doll?” he teases, pulling away from her heat to glance up at her.

She drops back onto the mattress and grinds against his hand with a needy sound. “Sweets, please, just—” She cries out as he sucks on her clit at the same time his fingers curl inside her.

Jubilee cums hard, moaning his name as her hips jerk and her entire body trembles beneath his touch. Her walls squeeze around his fingers and he pulls his mouth away from her to watch her face twist with pleasure. His  thumb replaces his tongue on her clit and his fingers slow, but he doesn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she’s boneless beneath him, the sensations too much.

Sweet Pea removes his fingers as she comes down from her high. He rises from the floor and crawls back up her torso slowly, the tips of his fingers trailing up the outside of her thigh. Another gentle sigh slips from Jubilee as he presses butterfly kisses up her stomach and between her breasts. She reaches for him as his lips find her neck. Humming, he peppers kisses up to her jaw and across her cheek, letting her catch her breath. Jubilee’s hands grasp his shoulders like she needs something to ground her, like she might float away from him if he lets her go. And then her hands slip into his hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes before she pulls him into a kiss so sweet that his chest floods with warmth.

For a minute he just holds her like that, kissing her slowly as her fingers caress the sides of his face. But he’s hard and hot and it almost hurts when he presses against her thigh. A groan tears from his throat when she rocks her hips against his. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against hers.

Jubilee exhales shakily as he grinds against her thigh to relieve some of the pressure. “Jesus Christ, Sweets,” she murmurs as she feels the full length of him pressing against her.

He hums. “I know, Baby.”

A grin pulls at her lips. Jubilee drags her palms down his neck to his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his stomach teasingly all the way down to the front of his jeans. Sweet Pea moans her name as her hand slips beneath his pants. She wraps her fingers around him and his hips jerk into her hand. The grunt that slips from him when she begins stroking him slowly is almost embarrassing and she lowers her mouth to his chin, kissing him gently.

He stares down at her with hooded eyes when her mouth leaves him. Sweet Pea braces his forearms on either side of her head, shifting his weight off of her as she continues to stroke his cock slowly. He thrusts into her fist and swears under his breath as she thumbs at the head. Jubilee’s fingers circle around the sensitive tip, smearing the drops of pre-cum leaking out.

Abruptly, she releases him, and groans at the lack of contact. Her head tilts back as she kisses his chin again, and she grins at him when he forces his eyes open again. Jubilee hooks her fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them away from his skin before letting them snap back against him.

“Take these off,” she murmurs, needy hips rocking up against him. Sweet Pea hisses through his teeth as she grinds against the front of his jeans. Her hands slip around his back and into his pocket, where she fishes out the condom from earlier.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, swallowing back a moan when her hips circle against his slowly. It takes him a second to disentangle himself from Jubilee. He rises from the bed just long enough to kick off the last layers of his clothing before returning to the bed.  

She giggles as she backs up, climbing up the bed, and he follows close after her.

Sweet Pea kisses her again, guiding her to lie back against the sheets as he slips between her thighs, and her fingers drag down his stomach again in response. His hips press against hers, his cock sliding between her wet folds and making them both groan at the contact. He grinds against her again, nudging her legs open wider, and swears loudly when she reaches between them to stroke him slowly and watch the way his jaw clenches at the pleasure that ripples through him in a wave.

She releases him long enough to rip open the foil package of the condom and he hisses through his teeth as she rolls it onto his shaft. He rocks his hips against hers slowly, running his cock over her slit, and Jubilee’s hands grasp at his upper arms, her fingers biting into his skin as he lines himself up with her entrance.

Jubilee hisses as he sinks into her, his cock stretching her from the inside. Sweet Pea slips into her easily, she’s so wet, and she shivers at the fullness, an ache already forming between her legs again. He’s big and hard and hot inside her, and when he shifts his hips she whimpers as his cock rubs against something wonderful inside her. “Oh, fuck, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs, biting her lip as his hips grind against her.

His responding chuckle turns into a moan when her walls squeeze around him, sucking him in deeper as her hips roll up against his, urging him to move. But he just rests there for a second, trying not to cum already, but between the foreplay and how warm and wet she is inside he’s already closer than he’d like to be.

Gently, he presses his lips against the side of her neck, kissing her there as he tries to control his breathing. Her pulse flutters beneath his lips and she pants, a light sheen of sweat making her skin slick against his.

Just as she starts to grow impatient, beginning to squirm beneath him, Sweet Pea moves, picking up a fast pace that makes her moan. His hips grind against hers purposefully, the friction on her clit making her toes curl into the sheets as she grits her teeth.

“That’s it, Doll,” Sweet Pea mutters, only half-aware of the nonsense falling from his mouth, curses and praises as she meets his thrusts. “Just like that.” His cock hits a spot deep inside her and her hips stutter against his, but he doesn’t stop talking as his hips move against hers roughly. “You’re so fucking incredible.” Her walls squeeze around him tightly.

A whine catches in her throat as he starts to thrust into her harder and faster. Her fingers squeeze his arms and her hands flutter over his skin like she isn’t sure where to grab him before she settles on his face and drags him down into a bruising kiss, her hips still rising to meet his.

“Come on, Jubilee,” he says when she releases him to breathe. His mouth immediately moves to her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin. She trembles beneath him, coil wound tight in her stomach as they continue to grind against each other. Her thighs twitch around his hips and she swears when his hand skims down her thigh.

She’s close, teetering on the edge, but it’s not enough.

Her arms wrap around him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades as she holds him to her. “Sweet Pea, please,” she gasps, “I can’t—”

“I know.” He brushes her hair away from her neck before his teeth latch onto a dark hickey just below her jaw and he nips at her roughly. His hand finds her hip, pinning her in place as he sits up slightly on his knees. The angle makes her gasp and his lips drag down her sensitive neck. His hand slides from her hip down between them. “Just let go,” he tells her. “I’ve got you.”

Big fingers rub tight circles over her engorged clit and she cums again, choking on his name and arching into his chest. Her nails dig into his back and her hips jerk against his as her orgasm crashes over her. He fucks her through it. Slows his thrusts as she twitches, walls squeezing around him.

The strings pulling her taut suddenly release. Jubilee drops back onto the mattress, chest heaving and dazed from her orgasm. Her arms drop onto the bed on either side of her head, fisting in the sheets as his hips continue to roll against hers. The continued stimulation makes her twitch.

Sweet Pea kisses her, swallowing the little sounds spilling from her mouth. One of his hands finds hers and he pries her fingers out of the bed sheets to link their hands together, grounding them. He manages to hook his shoulder beneath one of her knees, forcing her open wider and making her hips shift, allowing him to reach deeper inside her.

She doesn’t have time to breathe as he starts fucking her senseless like she wanted, his cock pounding into her. He leaves her boneless and breathless, Jubilee taking each thrust against her sensitive core as whimpers and gasps spill from her mouth. The sounds she makes only spur him on and his hips grind against hers just right, cock continuously hitting a spot that makes her legs tremble as he fucks her into the mattress, chasing his own high as she teeters just on the edge.

He forces his eyes open, locking them on her and watching as her face twists in pleasure. She looks tiny beneath him, his frame caging her in and holding her open, and he fucks her harder.

“I love you,” he tells her, barely aware of what he’s saying, but she hears him. Her breath catches and her heart skips, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “ _Fuck_. I love you.” His fingers squeeze around hers and his pace is relentless as she rocks against him. Sweat slides down his neck. He pants, tensing as anticipation grows in his stomach. His heart pounds erratically and he shudders above Jubilee, their breaths mingling as his forehead presses against hers.

She cums again when his thumb brushes against her clit, the stimulation from his fingers and his cock too much, but he doesn’t stop pounding into her. His fingers move against her clit roughly, dragging out her orgasm until she’s trembling and moaning beneath him.

Jubilee’s fingernails dig into the back of his hand and she whispers his name and everything falls into place.

His hips snap against hers and the pressure building in his gut releases. His cock twitches as he pushes into her roughly and his throaty moan is loud in the room as he spills himself into the condom.

Jubilee’s arms wrap around him as he pulls out of her, and her lips find his in the darkness that blankets the room.

* * *

 

Sweet Pea wakes up before her the next morning.

The sun is just starting to rise, light bleeding in through the windows lining the wall, the curtains left open during their frenzy the night before. He groans at the sunlight spilling in and buries his face against her hair, his grip tightens around Jubilee and she sighs in her sleep before curling closer to his chest. Her legs wind through his beneath the blankets and her unruly hair tickles at his bare chest when she nuzzles into his frame, chasing his warmth as his fingers idly stroke the length of her spine.

For a moment he just lies there, hazy and warm with his arms locked around Jubilee, content for the first time in days.

But the light is irritating and his bladder is full and as much as he wants to stay in that moment forever, he knows he can’t. It’s hard, breaking his grip on her and sliding from the bed without disturbing her, but Jubilee only sighs at the loss of heat. Her nose scrunches up before she rolls onto her stomach and Sweet Pea chuckles. His fingers linger against her cheek as he brushes her hair away from her face.

He cleans up around the apartment while she sleeps, gathering their scattered clothing and slipping on a pair of clean boxers. He has a series of messages from the guys asking how the night went. Most are earnest, but Fangs has been sending him strings of eggplant emojis again. He answers them all vaguely before leaving his phone on the counter. Sweet Pea finds her phone shoved into her jeans by the couch and sees a few encouraging texts from Lydia and Toni that make him grin.

Jubilee is still sleeping when he finally returns to that corner of the room and for a second he just stares at her. She’s kicked away most of the blankets, leaving them low on her hips, and her arms are folded under her head. Her right arm is stretched out over the mattress, her fingers curled loosely, and her left is tucked under her cheek, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her hair is a mess around her and her back rises and falls with her breaths. From where he’s standing he can just see the curve of her breast against the mattress and the red and purple marks decorating her neck.

What really stops him is the tattoo on her side, the one she tries to keep covered up. She looks small and soft and vulnerable lying there with the sunlight spilling in around her and casting gentle shadows.

He doesn’t really think as grabs his sketchbook and stool from the living room or flips the page from the drawing of her from last night, finding a fresh one. There’s no hesitation this time as he puts her down on paper, and Jubilee doesn’t move the entire time he’s working, like somehow she already knows what he’s doing.

And Sweet Pea draws it all. The tattoo. The hickeys. Her relaxed expression. Hours pass without him realizing it.

He’s just finish the details of her tattoo when she sighs. Sweet Pea’s eyes snap to her face and a smile immediately pulls at his lips when she blinks at him sleepily. Sweet Pea sets his sketchbook aside, closing it as he stands and crosses the short distance to her.

“What time is it?” Jubilee murmurs as his knee sinks into the mattress beside her. Her eyes flutter shut when he brushes her hair away from her face.

Sweet Pea presses his lips to her temple, leaning over her. “Early,” he tells her. He’s not sure what the time is anymore, but after the weekend they’ve had she deserves to sleep in for a while. “Go back to bed, Doll.”

Jubilee rolls onto her back beneath him, and his chest squeezes as she looks at him, her eyes searching his. His fingers brush against her waist above the edge of the blanket and she lifts her hand to the side of his neck. The tips of her fingers brush against the double-headed snake on his neck.

She’s quiet for a while. “Last night you said you love me,” Jubilee says suddenly. He stills above her, mouth dry and throat tight, but she doesn’t wait for a response. Her hand shifts to cradle his cheek and her thumb brushes against his bottom lip. “I love you too.” His lip trembles. “You know that right?”

“Jubilee,” is the only thing he manages to choke out. His heart pounds in his chest and his fingers twitch where they’re resting above her hip.

“I love you, Sweet Pea,” she repeats. There’s a nervous glint in her honey eyes as they continue to search his, but it’s the heartbreaking honestly that steals his breath. Jubilee takes a shuddery breath and her eyes leave his, flickering between his face and somewhere over his shoulder, like she isn’t sure where to look. “And if you didn’t mean it—” She shakes her head, eyes glossy.

“Jubilee,” he says again, but she still won’t look at him. He slips a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to look at him. The doubt that flickers across her face makes the pleasant warmth in his stomach turn to ice and he feels sick suddenly. “Hey, look at me.”

She swallows thickly. “Back in high school, I thought—but after the Ghoulies—” She trails off briefly, more hesitant than she was last night.

He goes still. She’s speaking in half sentences, but he understands. Before that night they were so close to something. Ever since she came home the beginning of sophomore year they’d been right on the edge of  _something_. Sweet Pea doesn’t know if he loved her then or if it came after, the guilt and the anger overshadowed everything. Things have changed so much since that night. They changed. Riverdale changed. But the way he feels about her is the one constant in his life. No matter how hard he tries to shove it down it always comes back.

He’s quiet for too long.

Jubilee exhales shakily. Her hands withdraw from him. “You never said anything. You don’t talk about it.  _We_  don’t talk about it,” she stresses. “And if I did something—”

“No,” he cuts her off immediately. Sweet Pea cradles her cheek and tilts her head so that she’s looking right at him. “Fuck, Baby, no,” he repeats, thumb sweeping across her skin. “It was never you, okay?  _Never_.” He sighs and strokes her cheek again before letting her go. “It was my fault, not yours.”

Her brow furrows in confusion that quickly melts into realization. “Oh, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs. Gently, he pulls away from her, sitting up on the bed. Jubilee follows him, drawing the sheets up to her chest. “I never blamed you.” Her small hand slides from his elbow to his shoulder.

“I know, Baby.” He looks at the sketchbook sitting beside the bed.

“Do you?” She squeezes his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head. “I was supposed to protect you,” he reminds her. “When you came home I promised your dad I’d—and you got hurt.” It comes out softer than it’s meant to, his throat tight as the words choke off.

“So did you,” she reminds him, tracing one of the scars on his back. Sighing, she shifts on the bed. “Sweet Pea, look at me.” Jubilee doesn’t give him a choice. She tosses one leg over his, straddling his hips and forcing him to look at her when she grabs his face in both of her hands. Her expression is firm now, eyes alight with something fiery. “I’m right here,” she tells him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She doesn’t say it, but he hears it anyway. She almost lost him too. He was so angry after that night, self-destructive. They both got hurt that night. The Ghoulies left them broken in so many ways, and he’s tired of letting that control him.

He can’t help it when he relaxes into her, his big hands covering her hips and holding her steady. “I know.” His hand moves to the tattoo just behind her breast. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

She smothers his apology with her lips, kissing him firmly. He responds automatically, pulling her closer as her mouth moves against his slowly, pointedly, just like she kissed him last night. He was apologizing then too.

Jubilee pulls away from him quicker than he would have liked. She shivers when his thumb strokes across the flowers blooming on her side. “Are you going to kiss me every time I apologize?”

“Only when you’re being a dumbass,” she jokes, running her hands through his hair and brushing it away from his eyes. He chuckles and she leans in to press another chaste kiss to his mouth, smothering the sound.

Sweet Pea shakes his head as she drapes her arms around his neck. His arm locks around her waist as he stares at her and she sighs when his fingers start tracing nonsense shapes across her back. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs, drawing her in for another kiss. It lingers this time and he drowns in the taste of her. She pulls away from him slowly, playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she tells him. “Tired. Good.” His fingers knead her lower back and her lips brush against his again. “ _Really_  good.”

“Yeah? Good.” Jubilee giggles as he leans in to kiss her properly.

It’s later, when they’re lying down and wrapped around each other quietly in the silent apartment, with Sweet Pea’s hands tracing shapes on her back while hers rests over his heavily beating heart, that she asks, “Why’d you draw a new one?”

It takes him a second to realize she means the drawings of her. He glances over at his sketchbook. It’s shut, but he stared at each of them long enough to pull them both from memory. Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck. “It just felt right.”


	5. Epilogue

It’s been almost two weeks since Sweet Pea first got his project. It’s strange how different things are after such a short time, things changing so much all because of an art project. His relationship with Jubilee has changed, but not in the ways he thought they would.

Things have been good since Sunday morning when they talked. Sex aside, not much in their relationship has changed. She’s still Jubilee and he’s still Sweet Pea. He still brings her coffee after class and she still ends up at his apartment on nights where she needs the quiet. It’s the little things that are different. Her hair tickling his cheek when they sleep. Kissing her goodbye before his shift at the bar. The shaky sound of his name breathed against his ear. It’s different. Good. There’s no desperation to see her every day but God when he  _does_  everything is a little bit brighter.

They’ve finally started talking about Riverdale and the Ghoulies and what happened to them, and Sweet Pea knows it’s going to take time to work through it, but it’s a start. It’s been a long time since he was honest with himself about how he felt, and his guilt isn’t gone, but there’s not a constant weight on his chest anymore. Jubilee has always made him want to be better. And he’s been happier lately, almost giddy, and it’s not just because he’s getting laid.

She said she loves him.

They haven’t told their friends yet, the two of them still trying to figure things out before making it public, but Sweet Pea knows they aren’t fooling anyone. Between the hickeys they both had and the fact that Jubilee stayed at his apartment until Monday morning, their friends have already put things together. Aside from a few sly comments from Fangs and Toni no one has said anything, and Sweet Pea appreciates that.

It’s Friday again, and Sweet Pea wants nothing more than to spend a few hours at home with Jubilee before his shift at the bar, but there’s something he needs to do first.

Sweet Pea’s been standing outside of Professor Kandinsky’s office for a good five minutes already, but he can’t bring himself to knock.

He’s more nervous than he expected to be about his grade on the portrait, in a way he never has been before. Sweet Pea has never had an issue with sharing his work before, even other nude portraits. The only time he was ever nervous about his work was back in high school, before the art teacher at Riverdale High noticed his work and encouraged him to keep practicing. But it’s different with this piece. It’s  _special_.

He hadn’t really  _looked_  at the piece after finishing it Sunday morning. After his talk with Jubilee they ended up staying in bed most of the morning, only getting up to eat and shower together before deciding to pick up lunch somewhere close. It wasn’t until Monday morning that he even remembered to put the drawing in his portfolio for class, and by then he was running late and barely had time to kiss her goodbye, let alone look at the drawing.

But his critique was good on Monday. The class liked the use of light in the drawing and all of the little details put into things like her tattoo and the hickeys and the tiny freckles on her skin. More than that, he was praised for how sensual the sketch was without being sexual.

The drawing was so much  _softer_  that he initially realized. Jubilee looked almost ethereal in the gentle light coming in through the windows and it shared a vulnerability that seemed to surprise some of the class.

But it’s not the class' opinion he’s worried about.

Sweet Pea knocks gently on the door to Kandinsky’s office.

She glances up from a stack of papers on her desk and a smile immediately appears on her face when she sees him. “Sweet Pea, come on in!” She spins around in her chair to face him directly as he steps into the office. “Here to pick up your project?”

“Yeah, I wanted to get it before class next week.” She nods and turns back around to flip through the portfolio’s leaning against her desk, searching for his. Sweet Pea fiddles with one of the rings on his fingers as he waits and glances around at the artwork on the walls briefly. It’s always changing and he likes to see what new pieces appear over the weeks.

“Here we are!” His gaze snaps back to Professor Kandinsky as she pulls his portfolio from the pile. She holds it out to him and her smile widens as he gently takes the file from her, careful not to bend the drawing inside or her feedback. “Nice work with this piece,” she compliments him, crossing one leg over the other. “It’s easy to see you put a lot of heart into it. It’s some of the best work you’ve done for my class this semester. Maybe the best.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes widen at the unexpected praise. “Thank you.” He’s not sure what else to say. Kandinsky has complimented his other pieces this semester, but that’s more than he was expecting.

“Do you mind if I ask who she is?” Kandinsky asks him, her head tilting to one side. “I think I’ve seen you with her a few times on campus, but I don’t know her name. She’s very pretty.”

He chuckles. “Jubilee,” he tells his professor. “We’ve known each other since before high school. She’s my—” He stops himself. Because Jubilee’s not just his friend anymore. And girlfriend doesn’t seem like a strong enough word. Sweet Pea’s had girlfriends before, and he’s never felt like he does right now. She’s always meant more to him than any girlfriend he’s had in the past. “She’s Jubilee,” he settles on instead, his heart immediately swelling with raw affection.

She’s the reason he’s standing here at all. She’s the person who encouraged him all these years. She made sure he never lost sight of who he was and what he wanted to do.

Kandinsky nods, her smile only growing with his answer. “Well, congratulations,” she tells him, a gentleness to her gaze. “I think you found your muse.”

It knocks the breath out of him for a second, but then he smiles. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, I think I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and commenting! It really means a lot to me and I hope you all enjoy this little conclusion that just didn't fit with the last chapter!


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